An Education
by dontstealmyvitaminies
Summary: Some things get in the way of love; like age, position, nations and blackmail. Love, as Eerin tells herself along the rocky road of her relationship with famous symbolist Fitz Darcy, can go a long way, as long as you learn from it and try to fight for it.
1. Of Beginnings and Badmouthing

**A/N: Why, hullo my lovelies! I have missed you all terribly, I'm afraid, since my last adventure into the wonderful world of the word. It hasn't quite been a year, but it's been a very, very long time since I decided to put all this aside for the sake of my education, which is almost at its end, and in fact, in only a few days I will be finished high school completely and totally (one more exam left, French!), and then the big bad world will beckon. **

**You can skip this if you want, readers. I do tend the blabber on and on and on. But I want to thank a few people who dropped me a line over this long separation, but there have been so many lovely people who have said hello, or, as it is, stalked me on facebook, lookbook, deviantart, the lot. That's alright, the way I see it, if you can find me, you deserve to be my friend (I'm laughing at this, but I don't know if anyone else would). I'm sorry I wasn't an active part of this community, but I missed all your kind words, you've all been such wonderful support to me, and I've missed you all so much.**

**This has been the hardest year of my short life (seventeen and I'm already so morbid), but writing and hearing from readers has been my break from all the stress I've been through. It's almost over, and after a few minor melt-downs I think that I'm finally at the point where I can enjoy my life once more. **

**So, here it is, a fic I've been working on for quite some time now, about a kooky girl (less than Loli, more than Eli) and an arrogant guy (actually, he's probably the nicest of all my Darcys), set in my home country, Australia (you have to say that with a really ridiculous aussie accent in your head, mind you). **

"_Must I memorise a book to be considered wise,_

_When I can look into your eyes?_

_There are poems and romances,_

_In the glamour of your glances,_

_You're an education in yourself,"_

-Michael Feinstein, 'You're An Education'

William Darcy examined the faces before him with intense scrutiny. Already he could pick out who was who, the overly-eager ones, the weird ones, the 'I'm only taking this class because it looks easy and I couldn't be bothered to do anything else' ones, they all clung together like schools of fish. It was the same wherever he went.

"Can anyone tell me," he began in a booming baritone that reverberated off the four walls and arched ceilings of the room, stepping forwards and glancing around with an expression of detached ease, "what the Australian term is for a class in which one does very little?" he requested coolly. A few students shifted awkwardly under his intense gaze (or rather glare).

"Do you mean a bludge class?" a scruffy young man in the third row offered awkwardly, glancing around to his companions, who had sucked in their breath in fear.

"Please raise your hand if you believe that this will be a 'bludge' class," the professor demanded curtly. "Lies I do not accept – but I can assure you, no one in this room will be punished for honesty by _me_," he added, when not one student had made a single peep.

Timidly, the scruffy boy from the third row raised a hand. Then the lad next to him followed, and within thirty seconds there were about a dozen hands in the air.

Darcy's gaze narrowed.

"You may now leave."

A murmur broke out amongst the students, and hands immediately lowered.

"I demand from each and every student in this room absolute and total perfection, and you _will_ comply with this demand," he announced firmly, his voice reverberating around the lecture theatre. "You may think that by staying one chapter ahead in the textbook and reading a Wikipedia article once in a while will keep you afloat in this semester – but that will not be the case," he stated calmly. "So if you have any intention of giving anything less than your all for this class, get out now, and save yourself the next two hours of time that can surely be spent zapping your brains with youtube on the library computers," he snapped.

Once more it was the scruffy boy who made the first move, he probably felt emboldened, having been the first to act in the class, but after he had left several others followed, even some who hadn't raised their hands in the first place.

"Now, to all who remain. You will be the first in this country to study this course, but beginners luck won't keep you afloat," he began promptly, when the door had echoed shut, leaving him with his students either too interested in Symbology and Iconography or too timid to leave. "I accept nothing but the best, nothing but your maximum efforts in class work, assessments, assignments and attendance – both lectures and tutorials are mandatory – I don't _care_ if you can listen to the lecture online, you _will_ attend. If you don't –"

His tyrannical speech was cut short with the sound of the door creaking open, and a late student stepping into the lecture theatre.

"Sorry, my train was late," the young girl apologised briefly, closing an umbrella from the rainy Sydney morning outside. A few students gasped as he narrowed his gaze, they were probably expecting him to leap forwards and rip the newcomer to shreds.

"Well perhaps you should have caught an earlier train to ensure that you got to class on time," he snapped coolly, after overcoming from his momentary shock. The girl blinked in surprise from his reaction, and her well-sculpted brows furrowed slightly.

"Well clearly you're not familiar with the inner workings of City Rail," she replied curtly. "I had to get up at five-thirty this morning to catch a bus and three trains to get here. There _is_ no earlier mode of transport," she informed him, her dark eyes flashing brilliantly with irritation.

"I would advise you move closer to the city, or buy a car."

"If you're that concerned that I'm going to miss your lessons I'll gladly let you buy one for me, please bear in mind that I can't drive a manual, I'm very fond of Bentleys, and my favourite colour is blue," she retorted simply, causing several students to snigger. Darcy scowled and sent the girl one last furious glare, but she took no notice as she walked right past him and took a seat in the front row, dead centre, which had been completely abandoned by everyone else. She pulled the tray over her lap and set her tan leather satchel atop it with a bit more force that necessary, before raising her eyes to meet his with innocence thinly veiled over annoyance.

"_Punctuality_ is an attribute that is highly valued in this class," he began curtly, when the girl had taken her seat. "As I was saying before Miss –"

"Beaumont."

"- Miss Beaumont _disrupted_ the room, you will all attend each and every lecture and tutorial that is scheduled, and if you don't, I will have no hesitation to fail you in this unit," he declared, once more casting his gaze intensely around the room. "And, Miss Beaumont, as I earlier said, I will accept nothing but perfection from my students," he added directly. The girl raised her head and arched a dark brow questioningly

"And would that be perfection in terms of my class work, behaviour or appearance?" she inquired innocently. "Because I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you if the latter is the case," she informed him teasingly, causing a few people in the rows behind her to chuckle.

"I demand perfection in terms of your behaviour, effort _and_ class work, Miss Beaumont, and you hardly need to advertise the lack of perfection in terms of your appearance," he snapped coolly, barely thinking of the words before they spilled from his mouth. He saw the slightest of grins flicker on her lips at his mistake as the entire class gasped in shock.

He inwardly winced at hearing the words slip from his mouth. In truth, she _wasn't_ physical perfection. She was too short and very skinny, and what might have been for all he knew a lovely figure was disfigured in her ill-fitting but fashionable boho-chic clothing; dark tights that made her thin legs look like stove pipes, tiny feet in a pair of flimsy tan jazz slippers, and several layers of shirts, waistcoats, cardigans and a scarf or two that fell somewhere to the top of her thighs and made her look as if she were almost about to topple over. But she _did _have a lovely face – it hinted at some Aboriginal or Torres Strait heritage but was also slightly pixyish in nature – with big dark eyes and long lashes, strong cheek and jaw bones, a cute little nose dusted with a few light brown freckles, full red lips, and her white face was glowing with the vibrancy of youth. She looked very, _very_ young, mid teens, really, although he knew she'd have to be older to be a university student.

But the more he looked at her, with the light catching on her dark hair pulled into a loose bun, with a straight-cut fringe so long it was nearly falling in her eyes, the prettier she became.

"Is that one of the lines you use to get the ladies then?" she questioned teasingly, but he could sense the slightest edge of true hurt in her voice. "Well I'm sold. Hey, if you _really_ want to know what gets girls hot, order them into the kitchen and tell them to cook your dinner. You'll get laid in _no_ time," she advised, her eyes sparkling playfully as students failed to hold back peals of laughter.

"No one is in this class to get 'laid', Miss Beaumont, but if you came with that intention, the door is just over there," he replied curtly, waving his hand in the general direction of the exit.

"Ow. Splinters," she muttered with a wince, glancing at the door, before turning back to her professor with an expression of intense interest.

"If this is how you act on dates then I can assume that only inatimate objects would be willing to partake in whatever you joined this class for, Miss Beaumont," Darcy snapped, well aware that he was pushing another boundary. She raised a brow and grinned, as if celebrating her triumph in cracking her professor so quickly. Darcy inwardly cursed himself – he wasn't going to let one flippant student ruin his fearsome reputation!

"Put your hand up if you'd sleep with me," thef girl requested suddenly, turning around to face the rest of her class. All male hands were raised, and several female. "Wow, Professor, I hardly think it's polite, referring to your students as being inanimate objects!" she exclaimed, turning back to Darcy.

He'd had half the urge to raise his hand when she had posed the question.

"Miss Beaumont, you're treading a dangerous line, and I will have no hesitation in kicking you out of this class if you don't stop talking," he snapped finally. She gave the slightest flicker of a grin, and bowed her head in a gesture of defeat.

"Terribly sorry," she apologised graciously.

"Work on it – manners are mandatory in this class too," he retorted coolly, before turning to his desk.

"You're from England, right?" one particularly intelligent student deduced suddenly, once more interrupting his lesson as he was about to continue. He turned around with an agitated sigh and glared at the young man in the sixth row with a mop of dirty, dreadlocked hair.

"What an astute deduction," he practically snapped.

"Toby! Didn't you even _read_ the dust-cover?" his blonde-haired female companion practically screeched, clutching a copy of his most recent book tightly to her chest.

"We didn't have to read that, did we?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"It would be advised, however, the two dozen lines on where I was born, educated and the name of my cat is hardly compulsory," Darcy drawled sarcastically. The blonde giggled.

"I thought that was so _cute_," she informed him with obvious intent. He could have thrown up. "I just _love_ cats," she added with a broad grin.

"Aren't you allergic, Mel?" the Beaumont girl questioned with a frown, turning around to face the blonde. Her smile instantly faltered.

"I grew out of that!" she insisted hastily.

"Oh, well Princess Fluffykins has had a litter, would you like one of the kittens?" she offered innocently.

"Since when have _you_ had a cat, Rin?" the dreadlocked boy asked dumbly.

"Oh, I got one around about the same time that Mel grew out of her once near-fatal allergy," she replied with a wave of her hand.

"Could we please end the discussions on _cats_?" Darcy snapped loudly, cutting the conversation short. Students turned back in their chairs with guilty expressions. "I will _not_ tolerate such behaviour in my class on a regular basis – if you want to discuss felines you can walk across the grounds to the veterinary classrooms, but until then you will _pay attention_ in my class!" he demanded curtly.

"Sorry, mate," the dreadlocked man apologised sheepishly.

"And you will not address me in any of your colloquial endearments, my name is Professor Darcy," he snapped. "Each day you have a lecture or a tutorial with me you will sign the clipboard at the front of the room with your _full_ names. And yes, that does mean any middle name that you see fit to add. And until I've remembered who you all are, you will write on a folded piece of paper your full name and place it on the corner of your desk. Yes, I know it's embarrassing but I really don't care," he continued coolly as a few people grumbled, but reluctantly ripped pages from note books and took out pens.

"We use our other teacher's first names," the Beaumont girl pointed out innocently.

"That is for your other teachers to decide. You _will_ address me as Professor Darcy in this room," he snapped.

"But your name isn't exactly a secret, you know," she pointed out, waving a copy of his latest work playfully before her face, where the name WILLIAM F. DARCY was written in bold black letters.

"Regardless, you will address me as Professor Darcy, and I will continue to address you as Miss Beaumont," he retorted stiffly. She hid back a laugh.

"Well then why do you want to know our first names?" she questioned simply.

"I honestly don't care about your first names, but you will write them regardless. In the grand scheme of this class, in the event that I am ever able to teach it, whether or not your name is Susan or Heather or Beatrice means nothing to me," he replied, before quickly turning away from her face. Those eyes were perhaps a little too distracting.

"Well it's not, in case you're interested, because my parents weren't so cruel as to christen me with '_Beatrice_'," she retorted. He stifled a growl or annoyance.

"Do you always talk this much?" he asked coolly. She looked thoughtful.

"I can imagine I shut up a bit when I'm asleep," she informed him pleasantly. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Then perhaps it's best if you took this opportunity to make up for the sleep you missed this morning," he retorted.

"Oh, but then I'll miss out on all this learning and I won't be able to live up to your standard of perfect work," she rationalised. "No, I think it's best that I stay awake for this one, but thanks for the offer," she finished cheerfully, before pulling out a pen to write her name on her little slip of paper.

A few students made various playful comments and whipping motions in the back rows. Darcy grit his teeth together in frustration, but resisted the urge to throw his text book at the girl's head. She was going to be difficult.

He picked up the thick paper booklets that contained assessment notifications and details as well as the syllabus, course content and overviews of topics that he had prepared for his students, and handed a pile to the person on the end of each row to pass along. He found himself glancing at the Beaumont girl's little piece of folded paper as he headed to the front row. She had drawn a smiling cupcake on it.

_Eerin Kimba Beaumont_.

Her name was just as exotic and pretty as she. It confirmed his suspicions, with a name like 'Eerin Kimba', she _must_ have some sort of Aboriginal heritage. It explained a great deal of her features, which were becoming prettier by the moment.

She _did_ have rather bewitching eyes. If she were five or six years older, not as flippant and not his student he would fancy himself in a little bit of trouble.

After the irksome first ten minutes, his lecture went off without a hitch as they went through what would be appearing in the course over the next semester. Most of his students seemed generally interested, but he could anticipate that a few of the faces would not be appearing in his class any longer – now that they knew his temper he was quite certain that the excitement of having a famous (not to mention handsome and wealthy) symbolist and author teaching a brand-new course would wear off very quickly.

"I anticipate seeing every single one of you attending each tutorial and lecture scheduled, and I will not accept anymore disruptions or lateness," he announced when the hour had passed, and students rose to leave the room. "Miss Beaumont. That includes you," he added pointedly, directing his intense gaze to the pretty little dark-headed thing in the front row.

"I'll do my best to get here as early as I can, _sir_, but no one on earth has been able to make the trains run on time with sheer will," she replied coolly, sliding her laptop into her vintage leather messenger bag. "See you later," she muttered finally, practically storming out of the room.

Darcy released a long, slow breath of relief as the door closed. That girl really _was_ too pretty to be convenient. He anticipated a fair bit of trouble from her in the coming months.

Darcy had been in Sydney for only a few days, and he could safely say that he didn't like it. It was hot, windy and too full of tourists. Admittedly it _was_ a very beautiful place, the architecture was gorgeous, the harbour made for a stunning display at night and he was very fond of the park near St Marys church, but it just wasn't _London_, and he could never forgive the city for that.

"You aren't _still_ moping, are you?" Chase questioned exasperatedly over the phone later that day.

"I'm not moping. I'm nostalgic," Darcy retorted sharply, avoiding the predatory glance of a big-busted redhead in the line for the Coffee Emporium. "And I'm perfectly validated in my nostalgia – this country is _far_ too hot. How is it that in the middle of March this place is still burning up? People audibly crackle here – and I'm quite certain if I reach out I can actually touch the sun," he added with great annoyance as Chase sniggered.

"My God, you are _such_ a pommy bastard. Are you planning on moping at home, too? Because I met a _really_ gorgeous girl a few weeks ago, we've been sort of seeing each other recently. We're going out tonight, but she's bringing her sister so I need someone to balance it out," he explained. Darcy rolled his eyes in response to his friend's comment; Chase had been in and out of love with one woman or another since the day he was born. He was constantly chasing skirts, and foolish enough to let gold diggers bleed him for as much as they could before they eventually tired of him.

"Let me guess, she's an angel and you're in love," he droned sarcastically. "Chase, I've heard it all before, and I'm not interested. I just want to go home, have a shower and read a good book. I have no desire for some air-headed waif to cling onto me all night," he snapped.

"Jannali is a _gorgeous_ magazine editor, she's kind and sweet and if her sister is anything like her you'll have a grand time," he assured him firmly. "Come on, we're just having dinner and some drinks, there's no harm in socialising for just one night," he attempted to persuade him.

"I'm _not_ interested in being set up."

"It's not a set up! Jannali said her sister isn't interested in a relationship at the moment, but for all you know she could be up for a fling," he insisted.

"I'm in my thirties, Chase, I'm too old for flings and I'm simply _not_ interested in some random girl you've picked up from God knows where!" he hissed in agitated retort.

"Listen, it's just _one_ night, there's no pressure, just come out and have a laugh with your best friend and a few gorgeous girls. You can leave whenever you want," he pleaded. Darcy sighed.

"Fine. Whatever. Just tell me where and when, and remember that I hate you," he sighed miserably.

"Ha! I _love_ you, mate!" Chase cried delightedly, before he hastily gave him the address and time before he could resist. Darcy ended the call and slid his iPhone back into his pocket with a tired and agitated sigh. He _hated_ socialising.

**A/N: Well, hope you like it so far. Next chapter will be up in a few days, and I'm looking forward to throwing myself into this world that I love so much. Might join some forums, what do you think? Please drop me a line by way of review, and we'll see if this story is worth continuing, or if I should scrap the nigh-on 200, 000 words I have for it already...**

**With so, so, so, SO much love, **

**Evie**


	2. Of Pizza and Prejudices

"_Hold your tongue, swallow your venom,  
You're too young, hold your tongue  
No push and no shove, spit your verbal mace,  
Hate can turn to love,"_

-Editors, 'Walk the Fleet Road'

_The Waterfront_ was a trendy restaurant and bar on the Rocks, overlooking the harbour, that Chase described as being 'indie'; whatever that meant.

"Jannali's sister recommended it, apparently she's a _real_ indie girl, you know, she carries a Penguin classic around with her all the time, she buys her clothes from weird little boutiques and op shops, listens to hundreds of bands you've never heard of, reads hundreds of books that you haven't, plays in an underground coffee-shop band, that sort of stuff," Chase explained as they found a booth and waited for the ladies to arrive.

"Let me guess, she also doesn't shave her legs and only eats food that doesn't cast a shadow," Darcy retorted sarcastically, sipping his scotch with the air of a man that _really_ just wanted to be at home.

"Are you okay? You seem really miserable today," Chase pointed out with a swig of beer.

"I'm fine. I just had a rather tiring day," he muttered with slight bitterness.

"Oh. How was your class? First time you've taught it out of England, right?"

"Not splendid, I had this complete and total smart-arse of a student constantly talking, it was as if she didn't have an off switch," he answered with a shrug. "_Why_ do young girls seem to assume if they have an opinion absolutely everyone in the world wants to hear it?" questioned incredulously.

"Because _young girls_ are a bit silly like that," a sarcastic voice declared from behind. Darcy turned instantly to face what he was certain was God's cruel joke on him for that day – Eerin Beaumont in the flesh, standing next to some pretty, willowy bottle-blonde. And she looked _pissed_.

"Oh, hey, you must be Eerin, right?" Chase greeted cheerfully, reaching out to shake her hand. "I'm Chase, this is Darcy, but he prefers to go by 'hullo, I have a pole stuck up my arse'," he laughed. Eerin's dark eyes twinkled, and the desire to kill seemed to fade from them slightly. "It's good to see you again Jan, I hope you've been well since I saw you last," he then said with polite nervousness, turning to the blonde with an impossibly broad smile.

"I'm great, these past twenty-four hours have been really lovely," Jan laughed pleasantly, taking a seat beside him in the booth, and giving him a short, chaste kiss. "And it's good to meet you, Darcy. Chase mentioned you a few times, he's very fond of you," she added, turning to Darcy with a pretty smile. He nodded.

"I'm pleased to meet you," he replied politely, before glancing over to Eerin, who had taken a seat beside him and didn't look all that happy about it.

"Hi, Professor," she greeted morosely. Chase and Jan both raised their brows in surprise.

"Is she one of your students? Ha! That's brilliant!" Chase laughed delightedly. "Lord, I saw him teach once, I wasn't even in his class and I was practically soiling myself, how did you manage?" he questioned curiously.

"Oh, quite alright, unfortunately I don't think Professor Darcy managed as well," she replied with a cheeky grin. "I'm a bit annoying, you know, in a classroom. That and I'm grouchy in the morning," she added laughingly.

"Rin has to get up _really_ early to come to Uni in the city for morning classes, I've offered for her to come stay with me but our Dad just wouldn't be able to do without her," Jan laughed affectionately.

"So are you two close then?" Chase asked curiously.

"Yeah. Despite the fact that she's so much older and wiser," Eerin answered with a smile. "Way closer than any of our other sisters, we've got much more in common," she added.

"How many sisters do you have?"

"Leena is the youngest, she's fifteen, Kylie is seventeen and Maiya will be nineteen in a month," Jan explained. "Then there's Eerin, and then me!" she added.

"Wow. Five girls? How does your Dad manage?" Chase laughed.

"Very well. He's got very good avoiding trouble skills," Eerin assured him with a smile. "He loves to escape into a good book, he's what inspired my love of the literary world, and Jan's exasperation in my constant state of daydreaming is what inspired _her_ to work in the _real_ world," she explained playfully.

"So why are you taking Darcy's class? It sounds like a bit of a bore to me," Chase pointed out. Eerin grinned.

"Uhhh... I'm interested in that sort of stuff. I love it when writers and artists and musicians have layers and layers of meaning that make paper trails all over the place," she shrugged. "I like to look at a circle and know why someone put the circle there, what it means in relation to the triangle on the other side of the painting or the page or sitting above the door in some old building, it's just... interesting," she answered with twinkling eyes. "And it all helps my research," she added, as Jan gave a sort of groan, as if she had heard it all before.

"Eerin's been researching for a book that she's been planning on writing for _years_, ever since we were little. She's got stacks of notebooks filled with research and sketches and character profiles, and she still hasn't even started it yet," she explained to those who weren't familiar with the story behind the 'research'.

"Hey! I have _too_ started writing it, I wrote a few chapters from the middle a couple of years ago, I just haven't finished finding everything I need yet," she defended herself laughingly. "And anyway, these guys don't want to know about my book. We haven't asked them anything about themselves yet, you know," she pointed out slyly. Jan instantly blushed in surprise.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, we've been talking all about ourselves! You two should talk for a while," she exclaimed quickly. Chase laughed at her embarrassment.

"Well, there's just not that much to know about me. I was born in England, I've known this old bugger here for years, but I moved here in '05 after I fell in love with it on a holiday," he informed her factually. "I run the Australian branch of my Dad's company, I have two older sisters, Louise and Carol, they both live in England but Carol is coming down this weekend to visit –"

It was here that Darcy would have spat out his scotch, had he been drinking any at the time. He flashed Chase a dangerous looking glare.

"Oops. Forgot to mention that. Well, she's _really_ looking forward to seeing you again, you know," Chase offered weakly.

"She knows I'm in Sydney?" Darcy hissed angrily.

"I didn't tell her! I swear!" Chase promised. "Ahh... Carol and Darcy don't get along that well," he informed the ladies when he noted their curious expressions. Darcy muttered something darkly that sounded awfully like 'understatement of all time'. "Anyway, that's pretty much it. Not that much fascinating about me," he declared finally. "Darcy? Would you like to take over now?" he offered, however, his companion was still staring at him rather darkly.

"I was born in Derbyshire, and I went to Oxford," he shrugged simply.

"Wow. I think other than the stuff about your pets that was exactly what was written on the dustcover of your most recent book," Eerin pointed out laughingly.

"I just have one cat," Darcy retorted with annoyance.

"Mate, you've got about twenty dogs at Pemberley, not to mention all the horses, the peacocks, the swans, the game and your birds," Chase reminded him.

"Ooh, do you have a tiger?" Eerin questioned eagerly.

"No."

"If I were a gazillionaire I would have a pet panda, _and_ a pet tiger," she said thoughtfully.

"Then perhaps that's why you're not one."

"There are probably many reasons why I'm not a gazillionaire, but I doubt a love of pandas is one of them," she retorted with a cheekily arched brow. "So anything to add to your biography that wasn't on the dustcover?" she questioned innocently.

"Not much."

"Any siblings?"

"One sister."

"Older or younger?"

"Very young."

"How old is 'very young'?"

"Eighteen," he answered coolly.

"That's not 'very young'!" Eerin exclaimed in surprise. "I thought you meant five or six, something like that," she laughed, pushing a stray lock of chocolate hair from her face. "How old is _just_ 'young'?" she questioned then. He looked annoyed, and grunted out a response.

"I would say... mid to late twenties," he shrugged.

"Wow. Then I guess I must still be 'very young' to you. I'm not even _in_ my twenties yet," she muttered thoughtfully.

"Then you're very much so. When you're as old as I am you will consider people not even twenty years of age as being 'very young' too," he informed her simply, glancing back to Jan and Chase, who were deep in conversation. "Did you want a drink or something?" he grunted, sounding rather forced, when she moved to inspecting her nails (which were painted a rather fetching shade of burgundy).

"Janni? Want anything?" she questioned her sister, interrupting the conversation suddenly.

"Good idea! We should probably order something to eat, too," Chase replied eagerly, beckoning a waitress over to their table.

"Hi, can I help you?" she questioned, fluttering her eyelashes rather obviously at Darcy, who drained the last of his glass. It was very unlikely that the girl had any idea who he was; she probably took in his attractive appearance, well-dressed exterior and expensive Rolex watch and made a firm decision on who she would be giving her attention to for the rest of the evening.

"Eerin, you know this place best, why don't you order," Chase suggested.

"Lord, you're all in trouble," she laughed. "Uhh... they do really good wood fire pizza, would everyone be okay with that?" she offered, to which Chase sniggered.

"It'll be funny to see _Darcy_ of all people eating pizza, but I'm game to try anything," he replied with a broad grin.

"Sir? You don't eat pizza?" Eerin questioned with a raised brow.

"Chase is a liar. I'm perfectly capable of eating just about anything," he assured her, rolling his vibrant green eyes at her doubt.

"Alright then, one large herb and veggie pizza, thanks," she said to the waitress.

"And as I'm driving, I'll just have a lemonade," Jan threw in.

"One for me, too," Chase requested, putting down his beer.

"Water," Darcy added.

"Well, as I'm not driving, I think I'm going to exclude you all and get a Raspberry Cruiser," Eerin declared.

"If you live a bus and three trains away, is it really the best idea to be travelling home late at night whilst you've been drinking?" Darcy questioned doubtfully.

"Well, Professor, I'm kipping at Janni's tonight, so you won't have to feel guilty about me being beaten up on my way home," she assured him was the waitress disappeared.

He _wanted_ to throw back something like 'why should _I_ care what happens to you?', but for the life of him, he simply couldn't. The rather frightening reality was that he had known the girl for barely twelve hours, but somehow he _did_ care. Was it paternal? She could only be a year or so older than Ana, so it was possible, but... it was more likely that what he felt for the annoying little brat wasn't exactly a teacher and student feeling.

It would be safe to say that the thought frightened the shit out of him.

"So... you want to be a writer?" he found himself questioning in his usual grunt a little later in the night, as they were feeding themselves on pieces of the best wood fire pizza he had ever tasted.

"Yeah. I was toying with the idea of a journalist for a while, but then I realised that I hate journalism," she shrugged. "Now it's just creative writing that I'm interested in. I've had some stuff published in a few magazines, but I really want to get this book completely finished before I send a manuscript off to publishers," she explained, her dark eyes sparkling as she spoke.

"What's your degree?"

"English Literature," she answered simply, popping a piece of green capsicum into her pink mouth. "I guess it doesn't make much sense that I'm taking your class, but I'm really interested in the course content. There wasn't anything like it in my first year at Uni, up until last semester I was majoring in studies of religion and ancient history because they were the closest things I could get to what you're teaching," she explained. "And then suddenly, this turns up! I wish it could be a whole degree, but a semester-long course is enough for me now, I suppose," she laughed, her dark eyes sparkling with vibrancy and youth. It was enchanting.

"In a few years it may. You probably wouldn't be able to access it in Sydney, however, but an institution like Oxford or Cambridge might be interested in offering it, if you were able to make the move for your last year," he informed her with an air of casual indifference.

"I would have _loved_ to go to Oxford, I did some exchange at Cambridge for a while, and then in France, I'm planning on going back next year. I wanted to stay and do two years full exchange but I missed Janni too much," she informed him, glancing affectionately over to her gorgeous sister.

Darcy had to admit, traditionally, most would think Jannali were the more attractive sister between the two. Jannali was pretty, she had nice features, big brown eyes and long rolls of golden hair (that was obviously dyed, but was pretty all the same) that seemed just as curly as her sister's, but the comparisons ended there. They were very different; Jannali's skin was darker than her sister, making her look tanned and healthy, and she was tall and curved to the point of slight chubbiness, whilst Eerin was much thinner and paler. Traditionally, Jannali _would_ be considered the prettier sister, but she lacked the brilliancy that Eerin had to spare.

"Have you travelled much?" he enquired, sipping his water and shifting to be more comfortable in the booth. It gave him a better view of Eerin, but he wouldn't admit to himself that he wanted to see anything. He could, however, finally tell the colour of her eyes – amber-brown with flecks of sea green and gold. Probably the most definite feature she had maintained from her Indigenous heritage.

"I've been to a lot of places, but I didn't spend much time in any of them, except two summers in England and a few months in France," she shrugged. "We went to Japan when I was about ten, but I don't remember much. In year eleven I did a few months exchange in Southern England, and I did a few school trips, New Caledonia in year nine and Paris at the end of year twelve, I liked it so much that I stayed behind and did a sort of backpacking trip over to the UK," she explained animatedly. "Mostly it was just the mainland, but I went over to Ireland for a few days, that was lovely," she added, with a brilliant smile as she recollected. "By then I had almost run out of money, so I had to get a crappy flight back, but it stopped in Southern France because of engine trouble. I took out a personal loan from there though, and decided to continue the trip. I went through Spain and Portugal before I went over to Africa, I absolutely _loved_ it there," she laughed.

"Oh goodie, is Eerin giving you the amazing 'I'm so well-travelled' story?" Jan intervened excitedly. "It's really good, but you have to get her to give you the _full_ details, it takes a while but it's really worth it," she assured Darcy, who nodded with a faint smile.

"As I was saying, Africa was fantastic. Egypt it absolutely beautiful, but I was really surprised by how much Western influence you find there," Eerin continued. "I didn't go South, I wanted to, but I couldn't get a cheap flight out for ages, and spent all of December in Cairo," she explained eagerly.

"This was of course during Christmas time," Jan pointed out to those assembled.

"Which was lucky, because everyone sent me over money instead of presents and I had enough to keep the trip alive until late February," she added, her eyes shining with excitement. In close contact Darcy could safely say that they were the most remarkable shade of deep amber that he had ever seen. "So from France I went though Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, then I splurged on a cruise around the Mediterranean and ended up in Greece, before I flew over and explored Asia a little, Korea, and Japan mainly, but I _do_ have a funny story about snorkelling in Vietnam for another time," she laughed animatedly. "And then I got a flight to Darwin and hitchhiked my way back to Sydney, having been away over three months," she finished triumphantly, to which Chase and Jan began clapping.

"Wow! See, now _that_ is an interesting travel story! Unfortunately, apart from a few drunken indiscretions, I think both Darcy and I have been completely limited to first-class flights and fancy hotels," Chase admitted ashamedly.

"Well you'll have to go travelling with Eerin then, she'll certainly make it a little more interesting," Jan advised him with a perfect smile. He chuckled and said something to the like of preferring to travel with her sister, causing her to blush profusely. Darcy turned away – it was almost sickeningly sweet.

After dinner had been finished and the bill paid (by Chase, because he was the only man _not_ coerced into attending), those assembled made their moves to leave. Darcy pulled on his coat and nodded a curt goodbye to the others, before heading for the door.

"Oi! Darce!" Chase called, just as he had stepped outside. He practically groaned upon hearing the diminutive of his name that he had never been fond of.

"Chase, you _know_ how much I hate that," he snapped, turning to his friend, who had rushed towards him.

"Listen, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping Eerin out," he muttered quietly. Darcy raised a brow.

"How so?"

"Well, listen, Jan and I are going to... well, she's going to come back to my place, and Eerin is pretty determined to just walk to the station and catch the train to Jan's," he explained awkwardly.

"She can't possibly do that. It's the middle of the night, she's alone, she's female and she's been drinking. That's ridiculous," he snapped.

"I was wondering if you could just walk with her to the station. Jan's place isn't far from Town Hall station, and you're parked near there anyway," he said slowly. Darcy glanced over his friend's shoulder to see the two girls whispering quietly. The younger seemed rather firm about something, probably her travel arrangements.

"I'll take her back to Jannali's flat. She can't possibly go on a train," he declared. Chase looked instantly relieved.

"Thanks, mate, I know it's a bad position to put you in, but God, Jan is just _so_ beautiful," he sighed dreamily.

"Whatever. But you owe me two favours, one for Carol and one for this," he reminded him sharply, before heading over to his student. "Come on. I'll take you home," he grumbled out. Eerin turned, and raised a brow.

"I'm fine," she assured him.

"It's the middle of the night, you've been drinking, you're a female and you look like a sharp gust of wind could blow you over," he listed shortly. "It's barely out of my way, so it's not a problem," he informed her with slight curtness.

"I've been on the train at night plenty of times, and I'm –"

"_Not_ going to catch it tonight, I'm afraid, Miss Beaumont," he snapped finally. "Stop complaining. I have no desire to turn on the news in the morning to hear you were stabbed, raped and robbed because _you_ were too stubborn to accept a ride home," he instructed pointedly.

"Well _thanks_ for your concern, I guess I'll save you the guilt trip," she muttered, pulling on her cardigan and trudging past him, practically radiating annoyance. Chase returned to Jan's side and gave him a quick thumbs up.

"In some Middle Eastern cultures, that means 'up yours'," Darcy informed him coolly, before holding his thumbs up with sarcastic eagerness, and walking away, rolling his emerald eyes.

It was turning out to be quite a day.

Eerin couldn't believe how things had turned out. Somehow she was sitting in passenger seat of her amazingly hot but also amazingly _rude_ Professor, just because Jan had found the opportunity to score.

She had been so excited when she woke up at five-thirty that morning to ready herself for the day ahead. She had been thrilled with the prospect of attending the first _Symbology and Iconography_ class in Australia, and couldn't help but admit that she was a little excited about it being taught by Professor W. F. Darcy, a word renowned symbolist, historian, author and genius, who was, judging by the picture on the dustcover of his books and the few interviews he had given over the years, quite a babe. She'd admittedly had the slightest of crushes on him for a long time, ever since she saw his picture in a textbook used in her high school art class. She was also a huge fan of his work – so his appearance only helped.

She had to resist the urge to gasp as she walked into class that morning. He was a tall (six foot and almost three inches, according to Wikipedia, which was at _least_ a foot taller than herself), well built but still slender, with a well-defined and noble facial structure, dark brown hair and intense green eyes that seemed to drive right into the very hearts of those he even glanced at. He was dressed nicely in dark slacks with a matching blazer, polished narrow-toed loafers and a crisp white Oxford shirt. He was a God, well and truly. He seemed to radiate this intense sense of power and dominance that she would normally be wary of, but it drew her to him like a moth to the flame.

But when the prick opened his mouth, any good opinions she'd once held came crashing down. He was rude, commanding and somewhat frightening – a manly man with no feelings.

"So how long have you been in Australia?" she questioned at the end of an awkward silence that had overcome them once they climbed into his gorgeous black BMW and started down the road.

"Just a few days," he muttered simply, not shifting his eyes from the road.

"Why did you come?"

"To teach," he answered shortly.

"Like it here?"

"It's tolerable."

"I love Sydney. Melbourne is nice too, but I'm addicted to this place," she sighed happily.

"You don't live in the city?" he questioned after a short pause had fallen on them.

"No. I live in the Hertford Valley, well, Merryton Shire specifically, it's about half an hour to forty-five minutes by car if there's absolutely no traffic and you have an etag, but because it's kind of the middle of nowhere nobody knows a thing about it," she explained after a sigh. "It's a little too far out to be considered one of the Western Suburbs, which most people normally think are the pits, but it's really quite pleasant. No bogans, just snobs and lots of old people. I actually think it's a retirement village," she said thoughtfully, speaking almost too quickly for Darcy to understand. "Anyway, I live specifically in a little place called Merryton Downs, which is a big estate filled with pretty houses and crazy housewives obsessed with the perfect length for one's lawn," she muttered, rolling her dark eyes at the thought.

"Move."

"It's not that simple. The city is expensive. I work back in Merryton, but there's not much work for me around here, and I can't afford a deposit," she informed him with a shrug.

"Then rent," he grunted simply.

"Nup. That's expensive too. I'm saving, but I probably won't move out of home for a while. If my book goes anywhere then I might do something, but for now I'm a little stuck," she laughed with a small smile. "Oh, and I talk a lot. I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I do _lots_ of talking, and most often it's about myself. I have a theory on that," she informed him suddenly. He felt himself raise a brow.

"You have a theory on why you talk so much?" he questioned doubtfully.

"My pet chicken died when I was thirteen, I think that messed things up a little," she explained, her dark eyes twinkling brightly. He resisted the urge to smile; he didn't want to encourage her.

"Well perhaps the chicken is to blame for everything," he grunted thoughtfully.

"Actually, _I'm_ to blame for his death, really, I called him 'The Great Gatsby', so I kind of doomed him," she informed him quite seriously, unperturbed by his gruff and somewhat rude nature. "I should have called him 'The Bantam of the Opera' like I wanted to, but Mum said _'no, they're Rhode Island Reds anyway_'," she added, rolling her eyes.

"Then it's your mother's fault."

"It's always the mother."

"So which one is your sister's building?" he questioned, just as they passed Town Hall.

"Just on the corner up there," she pointed out, hazarding a slight glance over to her companion. "Sorry that you had to take me home. I really wouldn't have minded getting the train back," she said after a small pause.

"It would have been an incredibly stupid thing for you to do, Miss Beaumont. I hope it's not a reflection on what your marks will be in my class," was his clipped response. Eerin bristled with agitation – what a _prick_.

"Well I'm afraid I might just be disappointing you there – I'm very independent and stubborn when it comes to my uni work," she practically snapped.

"There's a difference between independence and stupidity," he retorted with equal agitation.

"Of which I am well aware, Professor Darcy. But I'm afraid you're going to have to accept that I _am_ self-sufficient, not stupid," she answered through gritted teeth, pushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. "Thanks for the ride – I'll see you in class," she snapped finally, when his car rolled to a halt. She grabbed her purse, pulled open the door and then slammed it shut upon exiting, not even glancing back at him.

_What a smug, arrogant bastard!_ she thought to herself as she stepped into the apartment building.

It didn't matter how attractive or clever he was – she was _not_ looking forward to the next semester!

**A/N: Well, I for one am impressed, dear readers. I think I got about twenty-five odd reviews in the first twenty-four hours of the first chapter of this story, which makes me feel all warm and fluffy and honoured. Thank you for all your kind words and welcomes, it hit me how much I missed this entire process of writing, posting and hearing back from you all over this year. Anyways, I must study now, but I thought I'd give you a present for all reviewing so quickly and so kindly :D**

**-Evie**


	3. Of Tutorials and Torture

"_I don't know you, but I want you,_

_All the more for that_

_Words fall through me, always fool me,_

_And I can't react_,"  
- Glen Hansard & Markéta Irglová

"So. She returns," Eerin commented with a calm smirk as her elder sister slipped into the flat the next morning. Jan's cheeks flushed bright red and she sent her sister a chastising glare before the put her purse and keys down on the entry table to her flat.

"Sorry that your Professor had to drive you here, did you get back okay?" she questioned lightly, her tone a little higher than usual. Eerin hid a grin.

"At first he was okay, but he's a bit of a prick, really, although to be fair, so am I," she shrugged. "Anyway, I'm more interested in _your_ night. So how was it?" she asked excitedly, sitting up attentively on Jan's comfortable yellow sofa, a half empty mug of lukewarm tea cupped in her hands.

"Well, he drove me back to his flat, we had a cup of tea and... well... it just happened!" she blonde giggled dreamily, practically floating to the kitchen. "Oh Rin, it was so wonderful! He was so gentle and sweet, and we listened to this jazz CD he had and it was just so _perfect_!" she exclaimed joyfully, pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot her sister had made. She didn't seem to care that it had no milk or that it needed to be heated up, she sipped it with a faraway expression over her beautiful face.

"So is he 'well equipped'?" she asked teasingly, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. Jan's cheeks blushed bright red.

"Rin! I can't tell you!" she practically squealed, causing her sister to giggle.

"Ha! I knew it. Well, he smiles almost as much as you, which is a bit scary, but I happen to approve of him," she informed her cheerfully, setting her mug down on the coffee table. "When are you seeing each other next?"

"We're going to meet up for lunch, I really just came back to have a shower and change," she answered, taking a sip of her tea without realising how disgusting it really was.

"Well good for you – because I have a lecture in half an hour and then my first tutorial with Professor Pole-Up-His-Ass," she sighed miserably. "Greeeeeeaaaaaaat... _You_ get sex and _I_ get the rude Pom. I love life," she muttered with sarcastic bitterness, pulling herself up off the couch, and beginning unwinding the towel from around her still slightly damp hair.

"Really? Because _I_ love _my_ life too!" Jan exclaimed joyfully. Eerin rolled her eyes and couldn't help but smile. Jan was always a ray of sunshine.

Ever since they had been little girls, Jan was the pure angel of the Beaumont family. She was the most beautiful daughter, the most polite and well-mannered, and her genuinely good heart made her endearing to all who approached her. Mr Beaumont often joked that his two eldest girls were the only sensible people (apart from himself) in the house, and after Jan had moved out the year before, the count was limited to Eerin herself. Certainly Fiona Beaumont, the girl's mother, didn't have an ounce of sense in her bleach-blonde head, and the two younger girls also left something to be desired. Maiya was a bit better, but she mostly kept to herself and was _incredibly_ oversensitive.

"I'm nicking some of your clothes – I'll bring them back on Thursday, hun," Eerin called out as she stepped into Jan's room.

"Ahuh! Just remember to _actually_ return them!" Jan called back teasingly from the shower.

"I bring your stuff back!" Eerin objected.

"Yeah. Oh, and by the way, have you seen my tan boots? They seem to have disappeared from my wardrobe. I'd say about three years ago, actually," she retorted with a knowing grin.

"Guilty as charged – I'll bring those back too," Eerin promised, biting back a smile as she rifled through draws and hangers.

The two sisters had always been close. Jan in a 'my little sister needs guidance and a loving companion' respect and Eerin in an 'it's us against the world, baby' manner, and despite the differences in appearance and body shapes, they were constantly wearing each other's clothing. Half of what Eerin wore everyday came from her sister's wardrobe.

"See you Thursday, babe!" Eerin cried out, grabbing her thongs and bag before she slipped out of Jan's flat. She _was_ quite excited for her sister; Jan hadn't really been in a good relationship with anyone for a few years. Her last boyfriend left her high and dry for a more promiscuous lady, and that had thrown her off the tracks for a while, but a good, happy bloke like Chase Bingley wouldn't lead her astray.

She hoped.

'It's time that _you_ found yourself a boy, you know, Eerin!' was Mrs Beaumont's constant screech to her second eldest, particularly every time that Leena or Kylie brought home another guy with more biceps than brain cells. That always led to the awkward 'now dearie, you can _tell_ me if you're a lesbian, you know' conversation, which usual resulted in some sort of household object being thrown at someone.

The truth was (if Eerin was game enough to admit it) that she tended to wind up with the most immature and ridiculous guys or girls that she seemed to attract like flies to honey. Not by choice, but rather... the universe's cruel joke on her. She was actually getting used to it, really.

"It's not _you_," Carmen assured her most vehemently later that day as the two lazed on the university grounds between classes, sipping from bottles of iced tea whilst they 'studied'.

"I'm quite certain that it is. Think of _every_ guy I've ever gone out with – none of them had an ounce of sense between them, and not _one_ of those relationships have lasted more than a few weeks," Eerin reminded her as she doodled over a copy of her notes on the concepts of 'genres' and 'conventions'.

"Maybe you need to stop dating guys your own age and find yourself a _real_ man," Carmen suggested thoughtfully. "You know, a good five to ten years older than you. Someone who _doesn't_ still live with his mummy and daddy," she advised.

"Where exactly am I going to _meet_ guys like that?"

"Well you could go out with one of the blokes your Mum keeps setting you up with," she offered with a shrug. "I saw a real hottie around here yesterday, but I think he's a teacher. He was wearing a suit and everything. Too young to be a silver fox, but too old to still be a player," she sighed miserably, rolling over onto her stomach to inspect little ants crawling up a blade of grass.

"Wouldn't happen to be _this_ guy, would it?" she questioned, pulling a copy of W. F. Darcy's latest work from her bag, and holding up the back for her friend to inspect. Carmen's almost black eyes widened instantly.

"Yes! Who is he? Cos he is _fine_!" she exclaimed, snatching the book from Eerin's grasp, practically salivating over the dustcover.

"William F. Darcy – world renowned symbolist, historian, author and five times winner of the 'Epic Pom' award," she sighed. "_And_ he's my Symbolism and Iconography Professor. He's cute, and a genius, but he's got a bit of a mouth on him," she informed her warningly.

"I don't care. I love him. I want to marry him. Have his babies."

"Good for you, at least they'll be cute then," Eerin conceded. "But seriously, he's a _jerk_. He made it perfectly clear that he thinks I'm too talkative, that I'm unattractive, apparently only inanimate objects would want to sleep with me and I'm a 'smart-arse'," she listed before rolling her eyes and grinning. "Admittedly I _am_ really talkative and quite a smart-arse, but he was still rude. I was being a bitch to him, but I didn't _insult_ him to his face," she added in afterthought.

"I know this is going against all your feminist views, but this guy is so hot that I think he can afford to have absurdly high standards," Carmen retorted dreamily. "But if he thinks _you're_ unattractive there's something not quite right upstairs, and I wouldn't have a chance with him," she sighed, passing the book back to her companion. "Is he smart?"

"Actually, I've admired his work for years. He's a _brilliant_ symbolist, he sees links between things that show incredible insight, he'd toast Robert Langdon in a battle of the symbolists, you know, if he was real and all," she replied with a shrug and a grin. "I love his work with religious symbology, that's where he's really focused. But he also writes _genius_ resources on deciphering the meaning of symbols in art, my major work for History Extension in high school was based on his methodology and comparing his work to other historians like Herodotus and –"

"Okay, babe, you've lost me," Carmen laughed, placing her hands up in surrender. "I just think he's cute, I'm not really interested in his work," she reminded her friend. "But is he available? I mean, he can't _seriously_ think you're unattractive, maybe it was all some crazy ruse to hide how desperately in love with you he is," she teased.

"We only met yesterday, Car," she pointed out, rolling her dark eyes. "And anyway, I'm not interested in him like that. He's hot, yeah, but he's a complete and total _arse_," she informed her firmly.

"Nine months later..." Carmen murmured in a sing-song voice.

"Hey! There will be _no_ baby-making, he's a jerk!"

"Well hopefully your kids won't inherit that, babe," Carmen said comfortingly, patting her friend on the shoulder.

"Lies. House of lies," Eerin insisted, attempting in vain to keep a straight face. "Okay, perhaps participating in the act of baby-making with a guy like Darcy would be fun, but you'd have to remove his personality and replace it with... I don't know, someone with a _heart_," she laughed.

"Hey, it's not the heart that I'm interested in," Carmen assured her with a wicked grin.

"Oooh, _now_ I know why my Mum didn't want me to play with you when we were little," Eerin laughed accusingly.

"Hey, _who_ told you about the birds and the bees?"

"That disgusting textbook we had in year seven."

"Lies! It was _me_!" Carmen insisted with a giggle. "And yes, it was pretty gross," she laughed, wincing at the memory.

"The dancing condom?"

"'_If it's not on – IT'S NOT ON!_'" Carmen cried a little too loudly, causing those around them to stare curiously. They two girls practically exploded with laughter.

"Actually, I preferred the one in year nine, '_Don't be silly – wrap your willy!_'" Eerin giggled.

"Wow, we're horrible people," Carmen realised with a fond smile.

"Yep. But we're also _good_ people, because we accept our flaws," her companion retorted firmly. Carmen sighed happily, and lay back on the grass.

The two had known each other for years. They had grown up in Merryton Downs together, attended the same high school (Carmen was sent to a Catholic primary school due to her incredibly religious Italian parents, before it closed down, and she joined Eerin in the only other private school in the area, a stuffy Church of England college that strangled the life out of them as best it could), and were now both studying separate degrees at Sydney University. Carmen, being several years older than Eerin, however was in her final year of her preliminary degree, but had several years to look forwards to after, taking her Masters. They were closer than even Jan and Eerin, despite them being siblings.

"I really do _not_ want to go to my tutorial," Eerin sighed miserably, glancing at her watch.

"_Why_? If I had Hottie-Mac-Stud-Stud I'd be running there!" Carmen exclaimed.

"Well it's settled, I'll go take your accounting class and you take my Symbology. Yay! What a party that'll be," she decided, reluctantly sitting up, and sliding her books into her bag.

"Sorry babe, if memory serves you can't even count to ten," Carmen sighed unhappily. "We'll have to meet up later for another session of the Merryton Downs Lonely Hearts Club Band. What time do you finish?" she enquired, following her friend's suit.

"Four."

"Damn. I've got some stupid workshop to do, I won't be out 'til six," she sighed miserably. "Sorry Rinny, unless you're willing to wait around for two hours for me to get to my car it looks like it's the train for you," she apologised.

"I love the train," Eerin reminded her with a laugh. "I'll see you later, hun," she finished, before pressing a kiss to her friend's cheek, swinging her bag over her shoulder and heading off to class.

Darcy's first tutorial class for the semester consisted of about twelve students, and only one of which had a face he recognised. Eerin Beaumont.

"So I assume you've all read over the course content for this semester?" he questioned, glancing around to each face in turn, trying not to focus particularly on the familiar face – and paying careful attention not to note that her shirt was _just_ thin enough and covered with enough rips for him to see the parts of her black strapless bra and the line of her ripped and near tattered jeans over her hips. He particularly didn't want to appear upset that she had once again tied her hair back, this time with a leopard print scarf, leaving the length unidentifiable to him.

"It was about five million pages!" one young man complained loudly.

"And _that's_ not an exaggeration at all," he retorted sarcastically. "Who actually _did_ read it?" he demanded, glancing around the small, far-too-casual-for-his-liking classroom. Only Eerin raised her hand.

"Wow. I guess I'm the only one without a social life," she muttered thoughtfully, upon realising that she was alone with her achievement.

"So why is it that only Miss Beaumont was able to read that entire booklet, like I requested?" he inquired, keeping his voice level.

"Because Eerin is _single_?" a rude looking girl accused, clearly angered that she was being scolded. Darcy cursed himself for being happy with that revelation.

"Hey, I shower everyday and know all the good pickup lines. It's the _men's_ fault," Eerin defended, her dark eyes twinkling playfully behind her reading glasses, thick black top framed Ray Ban clubmasters, decidedly 'nerdie'. "And anyway Bethany, I actually went out last night. _With human beings and everything_!" she informed her with exaggerated emphasis.

"Wow. Is that a first for this year or just in general?" the other girl, Bethany, questioned coolly.

"Oh no, I was a socialising virgin until last night."

"Shame you're still an ordinary virgin too."

"As fascinating as a discussion on Miss Beaumont's virginity is, I don't remember putting it in the course content," Darcy intervened sharply.

"Well how would they know?" Eerin retorted with a raised brow. "Apparently I was the only one who could be arsed to read it," she reminded him.

"That doesn't matter. I won't have teenage bitchiness in my classroom," he said firmly. "Miss Beaumont, congratulations on being the only student in this room who seems to be able to complete a task that is set by their Professor. Miss..." he glanced at the roll, "Miss Lawrence. If you're that interested in Miss Beaumont's virginity, whether or not it is still intact, I would advise you make enquires as to her sexuality and availability at another time," he instructed, hiding a smile when he heard Eerin's snort of laughter and noted the Lawrence girl's cheeks flush red.

"I have a _boyfriend_," she assured him angrily.

"As a member of the male gender, I can assure you, lesbian encounters only endear you to the opposite sex," he retorted. "In the meantime, we won't be looking at the Kamasutra until next term, but I'm sure you could look it up," he added simply.

"We aren't _seriously_ studying the Kamasutra, are we?" she questioned warily.

"You would know, had you read the course content like I advised," he finished plainly, before flicking on his laptop and leaving the students to revel for thirty seconds before he lectured them on the importance of completing the assigned reading.

He didn't anticipate Bethany Lawrence returning to his class.

"Sir, can I talk to you for a minute?" Eerin questioned Darcy at the end of the tutorial, when the students had all trickled out the door.

"You may," he practically grunted, closing down his laptop and collecting his papers.

"I don't think you should have said what you said to Bethany," she said, after a thoughtful pause, in which she was staring quite intently out the window, before turning to face him. "She was embarrassed. She's really oversensitive about that sort of stuff," she explained. Darcy raised a brow as he stopped slipping papers into endless manila folders.

"She was making uncalled for comments relating to another student's sexual exploits."

"Actually, I think her point was to imply a _lack_ of sexual exploits."

"Regardless, Miss Beaumont, it was unnecessary. I'm sorry if you feel guilty, but Miss Lawrence was responsible for what she said, and it was inappropriate. You made no criticisms as to _her_ character, appearance, social life or sexual history, so she had no justification for her words," he replied with a simple shrug.

"It doesn't _matter_; Bethany and I just don't get along. I don't get along with the _majority_ of people I meet, but you can't –"

"This is my classroom, Miss Beaumont, and I won't accept your criticisms of the manner in which I run it," he snapped harshly. "I would advise you go home and try to think of a way in which to endear yourself to Bethany Lawrence, because she's in this tutorial class for the rest of this semester, and I refuse to have my students bickering for the next six to twelve months," he finished curtly. Her eyes flashed darkly in response to his comments, but he remained steadfast. She was, after all, his student. "And in the meantime, watch your manners in class. I don't know if any of your other teachers would have tolerated your little outbursts yesterday, but were it not the first lesson of term, you would be severely punished. Do I make myself clear?" he demanded coolly.

"Crystal. Good day, Professor Darcy," she replied pointedly, turning heel and storming out of the classroom.

The 'take care' died on Darcy's lips.

She was just a student, anyway.

It was dark when Eerin's bus stopped at the corner of Longbourn Avenue, Merryton Downs, the sudden halt startling her from her Lisa Mitchell-induced reverie. She turned down her ipod, thanked the bus driver and jumped off to walk the familiar road leading up to her house.

For nearly twenty years she had been a prisoner of that red bricked Federation-style house in a stuffy suburban estate. Nearly twenty years of painful torture by younger siblings and her well-meaning (however that was under question) but crazy mother.

"Eerin! There you are! I'm just about to dish up dinner! You need to buy a _car_, for Christ's sake!" Fiona exclaimed in her usual shrieking voice the moment she stepped into the kitchen.

"I'm saving, Mum," she reminded her mother wearily, opening the fridge to rifle through the contents.

"I'm about to put dinner on the table! What are you looking for?" her mother demanded snappishly.

"The last Horuxcurse," Eerin drawled pointedly, pulling out a carton of juice. It was empty. "Leena, you have _got_ to stop putting empty shit back in the fridge!" she called out angrily. A dyed-blonde head popped out from behind the hall in which the two younger girl's rooms were located.

"The bin was full!" she objected with an exaggerated pout.

"Then _take it out to the big bins_!" Eerin practically growled.

"But it _smells_ out there!" she whined.

"Oh leave her alone, Eerin, she didn't mean any harm!" Fiona objected crossly. "Put it on the bench, your father can do it when he goes on one of his midnight strolls," she instructed. Eerin rolled her eyes and sighed, putting it on the bench before taking another out of the fridge.

"Hey Mum, when's dinner?" Kylie chirped from Leena's side a moment later.

"It _would_ be right away, if Eerin could be bothered to give me a hand putting the plates on the table!" Fiona screeched.

"Jeez, Rin, how inconsiderate," scoffed Leena.

"_You've been here all afternoon_!" Eerin argued with agitation, swallowing down her juice in record time.

"Yeah, but I've been _studying_!"

"For what subject, Len?"

"Uhh... _English_. I have to study it all by myself because no one in this house can offer me any help!" she wailed after a second's thought.

"Oh, and the fact that Dad's been teaching English at UWS for twenty years doesn't signify he could be of any assistance," she muttered sarcastically, washing her hands in the kitchen sink, before drying them with the little fluffy handtowel hanging from the oven door.

"And _I'm_ studying too," Kylie threw in suddenly.

"That's right, baby, you're going to get your School Certificate _this_ year!" Fiona said excitedly, beaming to her daughter. "Last year was just a practise run, but you'll get it this time, I _know_," she assured her.

"Thanks Mum! With your support, I bet I could get at _least_ an overall band four!" Kylie squealed eagerly. Fiona's eyes widened with such a prospect.

"Oh yeah, you're happy that one child might stand a chance at getting a band four, but you didn't bat an eyelash when I got three band fives and a two band sixes," a bitter voice muttered from the doorway.

"Hey Mai," Eerin greeted. The black headed girl muttered something morbid as she walked right past her.

"I'm eating in my room tonight," she declared, pulling a carton of yogurt from the fridge to join the half a loaf of bread she had acquired from the larder. Maiya had taken to eating a lot of bread, each night choosing something new to dip it in with a consistency slightly runnier than the bread itself.

"Bread has made you _fat_, Mai," Leena informed her elder sister with little delicacy.

"Existence has made you _stupid_, Leena" Maiya returned curtly.

"I'd much rather be _stupid_ than fat and ugly," Leena snapped.

"Well congratulations – you've succeeded at both," her sister retorted with a roll of her dark eyes.

"Oh go cut your wrists, you fat emo!"

"Go get wiped out by natural selection," Maiya advised pointedly.

"Hey, that was _my_ line," Eerin muttered thoughtfully.

"I liberated it," Maiya informed her simply, before slipping out of the kitchen and back into her bedroom.

"Well, as long as it's happy and free," she replied sarcastically, walking out of the kitchen to the dining room so she could set the table.

Her life at home had been a parade of temper tantrums and bickering since before she could remember. The combination of four incredibly silly females, one incredibly impatient and only one sensible one, in addition to a head of the household that probably had no idea how to spell his younger daughter's names, all meant that they were collectively much less of a 'family' and much more of an advertisement for birth control.

"Oh. Hullo, possum," Warrain Beaumont greeted cheerfully when Eerin stepped back into the kitchen. Obviously her father had emerged from his study in search of nourishment.

"Evening Dad," she replied, running a hand through her dark hair. "So. We eat now?" she questioned, glancing around hopefully as her tummy rumbled in anticipation.

"_Yes_, don't be so impatient, girl!" Fiona scolded. "Why, I slaved in this kitchen for hours to bring you –"

"What looks remarkably similar to the Family Feast at Red Rooster," Eerin interrupted.

"Well I'd had a stressful day at work and I didn't feel like cooking!" Fiona objected impetuously. "And anyway, I had to cut up the chicken and put everything on plates and dishes anyway, not to _mention_ how crowded it was when I _bought _the damn food!" she cried angrily, picking up a few plates and carrying them to the dining table. Eerin followed suit, trying not to roll her eyes too obviously.

Fiona ran a spa and beauty establishment in Merryton Hills, and she felt it her mission in life to make herself and her children the most attractive people in all of Hertford Valley. She didn't have a very good grip on reality.

"I'm sure we all appreciate this meal, my dear," droned Warrain tonelessly. "We all know that you put as much effort into it as if you had hunted the chicken, grown the potatoes and manufactured the plastic boxes they were purchased in yourself," he added, with a bored, cheeky twinkle in his eyes that only Eerin caught.

"Warrain, you _are_ so odd sometimes!" Fiona exclaimed. "Well everyone, eat up. And don't expect this normally, I only bought it because the coupon was going to expire tomorrow," she added sternly. Eerin rolled her eyes. Her mother was a big fan of coupons.

"So Rinny-Ninny, how was Uni?" Warrain enquired, after they had all taken their seats and began eating.

"Good, I guess. My teacher didn't turn up to the lecture on Maugham yesterday, but I did have my first Symbology and Iconography lecture a few hours later, and a tutorial today," she informed him with a shrug.

"Is that the one taught by that handsome British Professor?" Fiona squealed instantly.

"Hullo, Fiona, dear, my name is Warrain, I've been your husband for the past twenty-five years. Remember?" he questioned, turning to his wife with a blank expression. She waved him off.

"Well? What's he like? I saw him on telly a few months ago – _so_ gorgeous," Fiona sighed dreamily. Her daughter shrugged.

"He's very handsome, but I don't anticipate us being bosom buddies," she replied simply.

"I bet he's smart."

"Didn't he like, write a book or something? Isn't he like that guy in _The Da Vinci Code_?"

"He's _sooooo_ sexy."

"Is he funny?"

"He makes good calls, but at other people's expense," Eerin informed her curious little sisters. "To the point of being pretty mean. He nearly made this girl in my tutorial class cry," she explained.

"I bet she was fat."

"Why did I come to the dinner table tonight?" Warrain questioned dumbly, staring at his plate. "Nourishment doesn't seem to make up for this," he muttered.

"How was Jan's date last night? You went, didn't you?" Fiona questioned sharply, ignoring her husband.

"Yeah, I tagged along because Chase said he was bringing his friend. Who just so happened to turn out to be Professor Darcy," she answered, wincing at the memory whilst her family members (the female ones at least) gasped. "It was pretty awkward for _us_, but Jan and Chase seemed to enjoy themselves. Darcy ended up giving me a ride back to Jan's place," she added.

"Ooh, did Jan go over to Chase's?" Fiona squealed. Eerin cursed herself at her slip.

"Uhh... perhaps," she muttered sheepishly. Her mother gave a gleeful squeal.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, Loretta Lucazzio is going to eat my _dust_!" she cried joyfully.

"I love my happy family," Eerin muttered sarcastically to herself.

"Hell, I 'love' them more than you do," Warrain retorted before taking a long swig of what Eerin had long given up on hoping was water.

Family dinners.

Joy.

**A/N: I AM FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!**

***does a little dance***

**Thirteen years of education are OVER, BITCHES! I AM A FREE WOMAN!**

**Well, girl, at least :S**

**So, some people who have finished their HSC will be out partying tonight, getting drunk and waking up at noon tomorrow. But me? No, I won't be eighteen til after I start uni, so I came home from my exam, danced on a few tables to Bruce Springsteen with a reindeer hat on my head and a frog umbrella in my hand, had a nap, made dinner for my sisters, and I'll probably turn in early because I have to go to work tomorrow.**

**I love my life. **

**Anyway, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this (almost seventy reviews over about three days for only two chapters... you folks are NICE), and I just wanted to answer a few questions:**

**Nup, Eerin isn't me, I feel like I answer this with every fic. Although, she and I share the most similarities out of all my fics – but she's way cooler than I am. **

**In terms of ages, this is my biggest gap yet. Eerin will be turning twenty in one or two chapters, and Darcy is in his early to mid thirties, you'll find out more later. Sorry, I'll stop writing age gaps one day, I swear! I blame my parents, mummy is eighteen years younger than daddy, it's all their fault.**

**Yes, I know Eerin was a complete and total bitch, and in real life, she would be fed to something big and scary with lots of teeth. The point is less how completely RUDE she is, and more that Darcy lets her get away with it. I think we might be a little bit more laid back in Australia, but trust me; this wouldn't happen in real life. Lucky this ain't real life, right? I don't view Eerin as rude, persay, because I had Darcy be quite a great deal ruder, but hey, it's the first chapter, her characterisation comes later, if you can stick around until then. **

**I know Darcy went to Cambridge, not Oxford. There's no fancy reason as to why I made him go to Oxford instead of Cambridge, I just did. Sorry, I could change it, but I don't see the point, there's no plot relevance to which university he went to. Personally I prefer Cambridge because the love of my life Stephen Fry went there, but once again, no plot relevance...**

**Alright, I think that's enough for now, I'm off to go update many long-forgotten blogs and stuff, tootles!**

**-Evie**


	4. Of Carol and Cossies

"_There's something about you,  
That reminds me of all those times  
When I wasn't sorry, when I wasn't blue,"_

_-_Ryan Adams & The Cardinals, 'Meadowlake Street'

Two weeks into her Symbology and Iconography class, Eerin found herself enjoying the content a great deal more than the teacher, whereas the teacher found himself enjoying one particular student a great deal more than he really should. What was worse – she was easily his best student, and thus the one that he found himself unwillingly paying the most attention to.

"You may believe that this is a simple essay, being only fifteen hundred words in length, but by the time you've written everything you want to say you'll be at least a thousand words over the limit," he declared to his tutorial class as he handed them their assessment notifications for the first essay of the semester. "Each and every word needs to count. Anything that is unnecessary and added in to make yourself look more intelligent will disappear, adjectives will only slow you down and _yes_, quotations count for your word limit," he continued, not hating the collective groan of his students.

"Sir, this is _crazy_!" Bethany Lawrence exclaimed unhappily. He wasn't particularly fond of the girl, but he refused to believe it was because she disliked Eerin.

"That doesn't mean I'm not expecting one hundred percent effort from you, Miss Lawrence," he replied sternly, stepping over to his desk, where there were a pile of multi-coloured hard-backed binder notebooks. "Over the course of this semester I will expect each of you to be using one of these," he informed his students, picking up the pile, and passing one to each student. "I find them very useful, you will monitor your progress and the developments of your research towards assignments, as well as what generally interests you in the topic of Symbology and Iconography," he continued, passing the final book to Eerin. It was the only blue one in the pile. "I do _not_ want to hear your life story, I don't care who's sister slept with who's boyfriend or how the entire world seems like a swirling dark abyss to you, I want you to use this as a journal to monitor the development of your symbology skills," he explained.

"So what do we put in it?" one student, Brendan or Bryson or whatever his name was, questioned.

"We find things that we want to evaluate. Like artworks or buildings or something, and we try and decipher what the symbols in it mean," Eerin threw in, glancing up to her Professor. "Right? I read about it. There was an article about how you made this way of monitoring a student's progress by looking at how their skills develop and their understanding of symbology and iconography progresses. You only mark what's in relation to each assignment and then you get the student to evaluate the first thing they ever did by themselves, and compare the two evaluations so they can see how they've progressed," she explained. "They're thinking of making it a standard process in a lot of university courses to replace the 'log book' system," she added, pulling out a texter and scrawling '_RIN BEAUMONT_' across the cover of her notebook in decorative script.

"Precisely, Miss Beaumont," he replied, inwardly delighted that his favourite student was familiar with his progress book system.

He could have kicked himself at the thought. She could _not_ be his favourite student. She just _couldn't_ – he didn't have favourites. He thought the entire practise was prejudiced, how could he _possibly_ like Eerin Beaumont more than any other student in his class?

"You _will_ be handing these in with every essay or research project I issue, although I will not mark your personal evaluations. I would advise you complete about one a week, but I've had some students do several. It's not a competition, merely a tool to help you practise your skills and see how they are progressing," he continued, ignoring his original line of thought. "It's similar to the 'log book' process that many high schools and universities use, but it's more developed than that, and you can't simply make up a few dates and write it the night before," he explained. "If you see a symbol that you find interesting, take a picture of it, draw it, or glue it into your notebooks. Try to find the origins of that symbol and investigate what it means. You can even use imagery in literature, poetry and song lyrics," he added.

His class gave a vague mutter. They probably weren't excited about the prospect of more work, but by the end of the semester when they would compare their two evaluations of the same thing they will realise just how helpful it really was.

"So you're familiar with this concept?" Darcy questioned Eerin as the class ended. She glanced up from her desk as she was sliding her laptop and new notebook into her bag.

"Uhh, yeah, I read an article on it a year or so ago. It just seemed interesting," she shrugged. Darcy raised a brow and smirked slightly. "Oh, I know what you're thinking. _No_, I don't sit around at home googling your name, if you were wondering. I used one of your textbooks in high school and did a major work in year twelve on the perspective that symbology offers on examining primary sources," she explained, rolling her dark eyes.

"I take it then, that you're familiar with some of my work?" he questioned with slight hesitation. He knew he was sounding defensive and irritated, but he was beginning to realise that that was just his nature when speaking to the delightful Miss Beaumont.

"Yeah. I've read just about everything you've written," she shrugged simply. Darcy wasn't particularly enthused to admit that his heart swelled with pride to hear that. "I'm really interested in that sort of stuff. I'm a huge Dan Brown fan, even though a great deal of what he writes about is just plain shit," she added.

"I'm not a fan myself, but he's done some interesting work. If he researched some of his facts a little better, however, he would be in a much better position to write such controversial books," he replied, sliding some papers into his tanned leather laptop bag. "Chase invited you to lunch, I take it?" he questioned, to which she nodded, and glanced towards the door, as if to check that there was no one else in the room.

"Yeah. I was about to head over now," she informed him.

"Do you want a lift?"

"Umm..." she muttered sheepishly, lowering her eyes. Darcy couldn't help but smile, but he quickly hid it from her. So she _did_ have feelings for him! He knew he shouldn't be at all excited about the concept of a student having a crush on him, but Eerin Beaumont wasn't just any old student. "I was just going to walk. I'm a fan of walking," she shrugged, before giving a nervous laugh. "And I've been a little lax in my exercise routine, too. I can't remember the last time I went to a gym," she added, her dark eyes twinkling brightly. Darcy wanted to object, to assure her that she wasn't fat at _all_, and she actually be thinking about _gaining_ weight, but he sensed a different opportunity arising.

"Well, that leaves me with no option, I'll have to walk with you," he decided. She raised a brow in surprise.

"You don't need to, it's the middle of the day, I'm not going to get raped," she assured him. "And you really don't need to worry about exercising either, I mean, you – ah..." she trailed off, attempting in vain to hide her steady blush.

God, he loved a woman who blushed.

"Actually, my reasons are far from noble. I can drive from here to my flat, but I don't know this city at all. I'll be needing directions," he explained.

"Oh! Well, um, yeah, it's not very far," she muttered sheepishly. "Umm... yeah. I guess we had better go," she declared, gesturing towards the door. He nodded, and hid a grin. He hoped it _was_ far. He was looking forward to walking around Sydney with one Eerin Beaumont.

"Lead the way," he urged her, swinging his laptop bag over his shoulder, and following her to the door.

She didn't say very much of any merit, she mostly babbled about the area and informed him of shortcuts, naming each street as they went.

"I used to work in the bookshop in this building in my first year at Uni, but it got too hard to juggle coming into the city so much, so I got work back in Hertfordshire," she explained as they made their way over to the CBD.

"Where do you work?"

"I work in this place my Mum runs, mostly weekends and holidays, but it's... stressful, I guess," she added, carefully measuring out her words.

"What type of business does your mother run?"

"It's a spa, but she calls it a 'relaxation and recreation' centre. It started off as a hair and nails salon, then it turned into massage, yoga and aromatherapy, the lot," she answered. "I mostly do massage, but in the holidays I run yoga workshops," she added, when she noted his questioning glance.

"You're a masseuse?" he asked with surprise. She laughed.

"Dad really wanted me to be an artist, but these fingers can't hold a pencil for more than a minute. Massage is much easier," she explained, looking at her hands thoughtfully. They were small and slender, but very pretty. "Anyway, it's really good for part-time work. And if my book never does anything, at least I'll have something to fall back on. It's either massage or strolling from town to town singing Bob Dylan songs," she shrugged.

"I wouldn't really take you for a masseuse," he commented quite seriously. Her eyes danced with amusement.

"I'm not, really. I can't stand massages myself; I'm really oversensitive to them. I get a bit freaked out when other people touch my neck and shoulders," she confessed. "I can _give_ massages, but I just can't receive them. Like coffee. I took a barista course in high school so I could work in a café, but I've never drunk a full cup myself. Apparently I make good coffee, but I can't stand the taste," she explained.

"I would not advise you get used to the taste, it's a horrible thing to be addicted to," he replied. "During my Oxford years I was a nervous wreck if I didn't have a cup every few hours, it took me years to steer myself off it," he informed her.

"I'll take that advice, Professor," she retorted with a cheeky smile. He was just about to request her not to address him as 'Professor' when they were out of class, but rather 'Darcy', maybe even 'William', but the words died on his lips when she spoke again. "And here we are. Your friend has expensive taste," she declared, stopping their walk right in front of a tasteful looking restaurant boasting some long French name.

"Darcy! Yohoo! Darcy, dear, it's me! Carol!" came a horrible screech from one of the outside tables. Sitting at a round little outdoor table was Chase, Jan, and probably the most horrible woman on the face of the planet.

Carol Bingley was the thirty-two-year-old elder sister of Chase, who had decided that since her youth (and trust fund) was running out, a wealthy husband would be her best career option. She had been chasing Darcy for at least four years, and her attempts were getting desperate.

She _could_ be called an attractive woman, if she didn't starve herself in the name of fashion and wear far too much makeup, not to mention the disgusting shade of bright orange that she had died her hair. However, one could always trust Carol Bingley to be sporting the newest fashions, despite the fact that most of it looked hideous on her.

"Carol, it's a pleasure to see you," he muttered weakly, approaching the table, wishing he could be instantly transferred a hundred metres back down the street with only Eerin as his companion.

"Have you missed me, darling?"

"It's only been a few weeks, Carol," he reminded her, brushing away her attempt to embrace him. She pouted miserably with collagen filled lips.

"Oh, but I missed _you_, Darcy, I was saying just the other day to my good friend – oh. Who are you?" the woman questioned Eerin suddenly, turning her head to take in the young woman by his side.

"Carol, this is Eerin Beaumont, Jan's sister," Chase informed her. "Eerin, this is _my_ sister, Carol," he added, for Eerin's benefit. She nodded in understanding.

"Ah. I've heard... so much about you," she replied slowly, taking the woman in before her. "Umm, when did you arrive in Sydney?" she questioned politely.

"Last night. I wasn't informed you would be attending this luncheon – do you know Darcy?" the woman asked coolly, surveying the image that Eerin presented. Smirking, it was quite clear she wasn't threatened; she took in her impossibly youthful appearance and distinct lack of height and immediately cast her aside as someone not worth knowing.

"Yeah, he's my Professor. We just had a class and he didn't know the way here," she answered, slightly suspicious at Carol's accusing tone.

"_Ooh_, she's a _student_!" Carol exclaimed, as if it were a horrific disease. "Humph. I should have known; how old are you, exactly?" she questioned, her muddy brown eyes narrowing with distaste.

"I'm -"

"You look not a day over fifteen," Carol tisked, and turned back to Darcy, but not after taking note of the amount of space between the two. She arched a too-thin brow in accusation. Darcy refused to answer her unspoken question by acknowledging her.

"Have you ordered?" he enquired, pulling a chair out for Eerin. She sat, frowning slightly as she noted Carol's cold glare. He sat down beside her, and acknowledged those seated at the table with a nod.

"No, we were waiting for you," Chase answered, passing him a menu, and then one to Eerin. "This is probably one of my favourite restaurants. They make _really_ nice chicken," he informed the two.

"I'm not a fan of chicken," Eerin admitted. Jan rolled her eyes, but the others looked to her in question. "The Great Gatsby," she said simply. Darcy nodded in understanding.

"Isn't that a movie, or something?" Carol asked dumbly, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"I'd say the 'or something'," Darcy muttered.

"What was that, dear?"

"Nothing, Carol. I didn't say a word," he replied indifferently, glancing over the menu. "Will you be traumatised if I eat chicken?" he enquired of Eerin.

"Me? Nup. However I _will_ put a voodoo curse on you," she warned. He nodded.

"Duly noted. I think I'll have some of the roast vegetable pie," he decided, setting down his menu.

"Copycat. Now I have to eat the quiche, just to be different," she sighed, closing her menu and placing it atop his.

"Do you really care about being different that much?"

"Do you really care about what I eat that much?"

"If I were _you_, I certainly would," Carol muttered, before coughing out something like 'size eight'.

"Well, lucky you're not me then, or else you wouldn't be able to enjoy the delicious meal completely devoid of salad that I'm about to indulge in," Eerin retorted simply. Carol sent her a withering glare, to which Eerin responded by coughing something to the likes of 'A cup'. Chase did a poor attempt at hiding his snigger, and even Jan looked a little amused, but her gaze still held a sisterly disapproval. Darcy resisted the urge to reach under the table and squeeze his student's hand in support of her resistance to Carol's horrible personality – but he stopped himself – he was too afraid he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to slip his hand onto her thigh.

She was a student. A silly, unsuitable student, he reminded himself.

So _why_ was he finding it so hard to resist her?

* * *

"I mean, I don't even know _why_ I'm a bit hurt, if I'm honest," Eerin confessed angrily to Carmen on the way home. "Sometimes he's really nice, like when we're alone. He's _smart_ and he's _funny_ and he can even be remotely polite, but when there's people around he's a complete arse! He was alright at the beginning of lunch, but then he just let this woman tear into me today and he just sat there agreeing with whatever she said!" she exclaimed with growing agitation. "When we were walking today I think I might have even been able to like him, just a _little_. But then at lunch, that hope disappeared! He's a _jerk_, I was an idiot to think he might not be," she muttered bitterly.

"Well maybe he's just nervous around other people," Carmen suggested, turning off the freeway. "Or maybe he's bi-polar. I just don't think he's really a prick," she admitted.

"But he _is_, Car, I don't know why I ever agreed to this trip – I'm going to die if I'm stuck in a small space with him for an extended period of time!" she exclaimed, hitting herself over the head at her own stupidity.

"You agreed because if you'd turned down a chance to laze around on a cruise ship for a week you would be easily classified as the stupidest human being to walk the earth," Carmen replied rationally. "Listen, just _go_! Jan wants you there, she's only been going out with this guy for about a month and he's already sprung a romantic holiday on her, she _needs_ you to be her buffer! And so what if you have to put up with some insanely gorgeous guy for a week? Oh, boo-hoo, poor Eerin," she added, rolling her eyes at the end of the statement.

"You're forgetting about that horrible 'Carol' woman," Eerin reminded her bitterly.

"Forget her; she's obviously just got a pole shoved up her ass."

"I wonder if she bought it from the same place Darcy got his."

"Eerin!" Carmen laughed. "Come on, you're just being miserable for the sake of being miserable! You have the opportunity to spend a week on a gorgeous luxury yacht with a gorgeous guy, _embrace it_!" she urged her. Eerin sighed, and laughed.

"I'm going to embrace a week on a luxury yacht, because I'm seriously excited by that, but he's _not_ a gorgeous guy, he's my teacher, who just so happens to be gorgeous," she said sternly, with a playful twinkle in her eye and her lips curved upwards into a smile. Carmen beamed.

"That's the attitude! And whilst you're on that boat, remember to ask him if he has any brothers available for some sexing up," she requested.

"You're a horrible Catholic."

"Hey, you let my parents drag you to Church to christen each and every one of my bloody relatives, which means that _you_ are a horrible atheist," Carmen returned laughingly. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"I'm not an atheist – I'm neutral. Like Belgium," she replied thoughtfully, tapping her chin.

"Now you've made me want chocolate!" Carmen practically moaned.

"I was just thinking that. Max Brenner?"

"Hell _yes_," she declared, making a sudden U-turn in the direction of the Merryton Hills Town Centre.

Merryton Hills was the biggest shopping open plan centre in all of Australia – it was spread over several acres and held about three hundred different shops. Eerin found herself spending vast amounts of time there, she loved the traditional streetscape which resembled a town, rather than a shopping centre; it was all open space with adorable cobbled roads winding through so the shopper could enjoy the sunshine.

"We really should bite the bullet and get a flat here," Eerin declared firmly as they sat at the small tables outside the Max Brenner chocolate café by the large water fountain where small children played happily.

"No way, they're too expensive. And if I moved in with you we'd have to get married," Carmen replied with mocking seriousness as she slowly stirred chocolate into her suckao.

"Hmm. I guess you're right – and we'd waste all our money buying chocolate anyway," she sighed dismally, dipping the corner of her butter croissant into her Italian hot chocolate, watching the pastry soak up the deliciously creamy concoction.

"But it'd be a happy existence."

"Undoubtedly, but a very _expensive_ one," Eerin laughed.

"Well marry your Professor then, he's loaded," she advised. Eerin rolled her dark eyes.

"I'm not interested in Darcy whatsoever," she said firmly. Carmen raised a brow in surprise.

"Who ever said Darcy? I meant Professor Dawlin. She's a babe, and at seventy-two she's still got it going on," she retorted teasingly. Eerin shuddered.

"Ew. _Bad_ image. And you said '_he_', so I know you were talking about Darcy," she added, her tone stern with disapproval. Carmen rolled her eyes.

"I'm just having a little fun. You shouldn't be so obvious in your hatred of Mister Sex-on-Toast, it makes it too easy for me," she laughed in retort. "Listen, if he bothers you that much, then just ignore him. Do what your Dad does and become invisible," she suggested. Eerin groaned enviously.

"I can't _do_ that. He just blends into the wall, but let's face it, I'm too attention seeking to pull it off. I think I'll just ignore him, and he'll ignore me, because I'm _quite_ certain he's sick of me already," she decided firmly. "And that's almost as good as invisibility, right? I mean, we'll be on a yacht, it's not like we're going to be so bored we'll actually be forced to _talk_ to each other," she rationalised. Carmen sniggered into her suckao.

"Of course. You guys won't talk to each other at all. Except when you're having sex."

"What do they _teach you_ in accounting?" Eerin squealed in shock as Carmen continued to laugh.

"Not much, this I learnt off the streets, baby," she declared. Eerin shook her head in wonder.

"You're terrible, and I'm not taking your advice on anything. I'm ignoring Darcy, and there will be no sexing."

"You _know_ you're not going to be able to ignore him, you never can when the person is actually worth debating with. You're going to end up in some sort of battle of the wits, like you always do," Carmen warned. Eerin only rolled her eyes.

"I'll just try and be strong, resist the temptation. It can't be too difficult," she shrugged. Carmen sighed.

"Yeah, it _will be_, because I know you. Just pack some extra books or something so you can keep yourself busy. Oh, and we are _so_ going to get you some new cossies, because none of yours will really help in the whole 'sexing up' thing we're going for," she returned firmly.

"Umm, Carmen, no offence, but your taste in swimwear is a little... well, _daring_," she replied sheepishly.

"Precisely. Now, I saw some really cute stuff in _Myer_. I need more clothes too, now that I think about it," Carmen said thoughtfully. Eerin wanted to laugh, but hid back the urge. Carmen was a bit of a clothes-pony, and would never really be in _need_ of more, only in desire.

"I guess I should probably get a few things, I mean, I'm working tomorrow but I doubt I'll have time to pick anything up before Saturday," she muttered, sipping the last of her hot chocolate.

"Good. Let's go then, and we're getting you something sexy. I don't care about your objections or this fascination with 'crazy cat lady chic', it's time you showed your body off a little," she insisted.

"Dear God. I'm in so much trouble," Eerin sighed. Carmen gave a wicked grin.

"Of course you are. Now come on, we don't have much time to make you sexy," she demanded, grabbing her friend by the wrist and tugging her out of the café in search of clothing shops.

Eerin didn't tend to be much of an exhibitionist in terms of her body, unless it was tasteful, so wearing supré was not in her habit. She was, however, an avid fashion follower, and tended to be creative with her looks. She haunted LookBook nu and online boutiques, enjoying the fact that most of her clothing was original.

"What about this?" Carmen offered, pulling forth a scrap of material masquerading as a swimming costume when they were in Myer. Eerin winced.

"No way."

"Alright, well what about all that stuff over there? _That_ looks like it would be more to your taste," she declared, gesturing over to a line that seemed to be inspired by the 1940s very retro, feminine style. It was all bright colours, high waists, frills and patterns.

"_Much_ better," she declared happily, picking up a few pieces she liked.

"Thank God. I think some of these could really catch your Professor's eye," Carmen teased. Eerin groaned.

"That's it; you can go sit in the corner. I'm not listening to you anymore," she instructed. Carmen sniggered.

"Just buy a few sexy things. There's only a very small window in which you can get away with this sort of stuff, by the time you're thirty that window will have been bolted shut. Take advantage of it," she begged her. Eerin sighed.

"Fine. A few 'sexy' things, but nothing overboard. I'll never hear the end of it if I go too crazy," she muttered dismally. Carmen squealed in excitement.

"Brilliant! Alright, first of all, you're getting _this_," she demanded, thrusting a bikini into her hand. Eerin groaned, regretting her decision already. "And no complaining, you _did_ agree," Carmen reminded her. Eerin's groan turned into a sigh, and then a smile.

"Alright, alright. Let's just keep our heads about -," she laughed, but before she could even finish the sentence, Carmen had thrust more cossies into her arm and was leading her to the lingerie section.

It was going to be a very long shopping session.

"I'm home!" Eerin called as she pulled open the front door to her home in Merryton Downs, Carmen trailing behind her, bags of shopping in their arms.

"Well tough luck for you, we've already finished dinner. You can make something if you like," Fiona scoffed, turning her face from the television screen for a moment to glance at her daughter and friend. "Oh, hullo Carmen, dear. Are you hungry? I'm sure I could rustle something up for you," she declared, her tone suddenly sickly sweet.

"We already ate, Mrs B. I was just going to help Rin pack for the boat trip, you know, make sure she's putting all the appropriate things in her suitcase," she replied with a pleasing smile.

"Did you buy yourself a new bikini? Because Leena has a few if you –"

"_Yes_, I did, Mother. Carmen picked it out for me," Eerin sighed. Fiona's eyes lit up excitedly and she clapped her hands together.

"Oh _brilliant,_ you know she never wears bikinis! Not even in the pool! I hope she can catch the eye of someone on that boat!" she said eagerly. Eerin rolled her dark eyes.

"Mum, it's a private yacht. The only men will be Chase and my _Professor_. I'm not interested in making that kind of impression," she assured her mother, walking through the hallway.

"You'll never get married! You'll just stay in this house for years! Oh, my poor nerves!" she practically wailed.

"Sorry about that," Eerin muttered, closing the sliding door that separated the front section of the house to the kitchen area. The kitchen wrapped around the atrium, which was currently filled with dying pot plants, leading onto the more casual dining and television area. Jannali's old bedroom was now Fiona's 'office', and down the hall was the main bathroom, shared by Leena and Kylie, who's bedrooms were on either side of it, allowing them to easily steal clothes from each other's wardrobes. Through the kitchen was the bedroom and bathroom that Eerin and Maiya used to share, the study (which was really just a corner with a computer that was about ten years old and a few of Leena's abandoned textbooks), before the house connected with the granny flat; Eerin's domain.

The granny flat was once where Maddy, Fiona's younger sister, and her son lived, but they had moved out when Eerin finished high school to their own place on the coast. Large houses in wealthy residential areas like Merryton Downs were normally as large, if not larger than the Beaumont's home, so having a granny flat that connected to the property was not unusual. With the departure of Maddy and her son, the granny flat, which consisted of a small kitchen, a combined living and dining room, two bedrooms and a bathroom became known as 'Eerin's Flat', and was really the only thing that kept her sane. In the same manner, Warrain, her father, was kept sane by his shed.

Once a three-car garage that had been fully equipped with electricity, water and heating, 'the shed' or 'the library' was his private sanctity, where no one (save Eerin, but only when he was in a good mood) could enter. The towering piles of books everywhere that threatened to fall on anyone who stepped into the threshold was a deterrent enough.

"I thought so. Some idiot has deadlocked this again, that's why I couldn't open it," Eerin said thoughtfully, checking the door that separated her flat from the outside world. She sighed. "Probably Mum, trying to make sure I would use the main door to get in. I need to get this fixed now," she sighed, rattling the doorknob. "Dad'll never do it, you know how lazy he is," she muttered, turning away from the door to see Carmen rifling through her fridge.

"I'll get one of my brother's to come fix it later. So, define how much authority I have over what you put in your suitcase, please," she requested, pulling out a half-empty bottle of Riccadonnafrom the fridge, and pouring it into two glasses.

"None."

"I can work with that."

Eerin sniggered as she sipped her wine, and started going through her purchases. She'd spent more money than she'd really wanted, but she had to admit, some of the things she bought _were_ pretty cute.

"Where's your Mum's suitcases?"

"Uh, under the desk in the other room," she replied, briefly waving her hand into the bedroom that had turned into a miniature (much more feminine) version of her father's shed, and was a home for a great deal of junk that needed storage over the years.

"I swear to God, I would _never_ be able to tell this wasn't original Burberry. Your Mum has a good eye for quality," Carmen commented, dragging the matching knock-off Burberry luggage out of the 'other room'.

"She has a good eye for last minute ebay sales," she sighed, kicking the cases open.

"So how is Jannali going with Prince Charming, anyway?" Carmen questioned curiously, pulling the tags off new purchases and immediately tossing them into the suitcase whilst Eerin did the logical thing and fetched things like nighties and underwear.

"Well she says they're really good. I don't know, I think she's still a little shy around him. You know how long she takes to get used to new things," she sighed, throwing a pile of essentials into the suitcase with no neatness whatsoever.

"She should be more open about how she feels. Chase might think she's not into him and back off," she warned. Eerin shrugged.

"Maybe, but what's the harm in playing it safe for a little while? I think they're going to stick, they're so cute together," she replied simply, pulling a few dresses out of her wardrobe to join the messy clutter in the suitcase.

"A good attitude in theory, but in real life, someone will snatch him off before she gets a chance to tell him how she feels, and she'll end up hurt, _again_," Carmen reminded her.

And Jannali had indeed been hurt before. She fell in love with a boy named Michael, but after only a few months together he confessed that he'd been cheating with another woman because he didn't think _their_ relationship was serious enough. Jan was heartbroken, and tended to be very cagy when it came to emotions from that day forth.

"No. Chase is so crazy about Jan, I don't think he'd ever try to hurt her. She just needs a little more time," she insisted. Carmen sighed at her friend's optimism.

"Whatever. Oh, and you're not taking this. Go sit in the corner and eat your own hair, I'm in charge of packing," she insisted, throwing out several items Eerin had just put in the bag.

"I think I should get this cut. It's getting _way_ too long," she muttered thoughtfully, inspecting a stray lock of her dark hair.

"Well there's no point in keeping it long if you _always_ put it in a bun, you know," Carmen reminded her.

"I don't _always _put it in a bun!" she objected. Carmen rolled her eyes.

"I've not seen you with your hair out for a good six months. You're a _champion_ of the two second loose bun; the most adventurous you get with your hair is sometimes wearing your fringe to the side. I want you to wear your hair out the whole time you're on that boat," she dared insistently. Eerin pulled her hair from its usual loose bun thoughtfully.

"Hmm. Maybe I will, just to see if I want to get it cut or not," she decided with a shrug. Her long brown locks fell to her waist, despite the regular trims she would get to keep away split ends.

"Good, we've made a breakthrough; you're wearing your hair out. Next is _not _wearing clothes that are so baggy they make you look like a rake. Give me a week and you'll be recognisable as a human being," she teased. "Ooh, and you're so stealing my Mum's giant beach hat, the pink one. And go grab Leena's heart-shaped sunglasses. You're going to look so retro," she practically squealed. Reluctantly Eerin dragged herself off her bed.

"I'm getting the sunscreen, not adhering to your crazy whims. I might just get Leena's sunglasses, however, but _not_ because you told me, but because they're cute," she warned. Carmen sniggered.

"Go, and I'll sneak sexy stuff into your suitcase when you're not here," she demanded. Rolling her eyes and laughing, Eerin left her friend in search of Leena.

She actually did really like those sunglasses... All up, she was surprised to find herself actually looking forward to Saturday. She assured herself that it wasn't due to the presence of a certain someone, and went about her search for the sunscreen and glasses.

It wasn't as if she actually _liked_ Darcy, anyway.

**A/N: Well, a little bit of action happening already. I tell you what, this whole freedom thing is great, I'm actually starting to enjoy my life a little and I can actually **_**read**_** some of the huge pile of books I've been dying to crack open the past two years. Anyway, remember to review, the more I get the quicker I post :D**


	5. Of Boats and Bikinis

"_Strange what desire can make foolish people do..._

_I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you,_

_And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you,_

_No I don't want to fall in love_,"

-Chris Isaak, 'Wicked Game'

"Thanks for coming, Darce. I didn't want this to be too full on for Jannali," Chase said appreciatively on Saturday morning, as one of the crew members hurried to take Darcy's bags from his car and onto the boat.

"Hmm. You owe me _three_ favours now," he grunted with annoyance. Chase laughed as he clapped his friend on the back.

"Well, you get the room furthest away from Carol, so I thought I was being nice," he chuckled. Darcy fought the flicker of an amused smile on his face.

"That'll do for a start. And you're paying for that cat-sitting thing you forced Boots into."

Chase sniggered. "Of course, your sister's precious kitten will be fine," he assured him. "And as I recall, Carol gets _really_ seasick, I guess she only agreed to come because of you. She'll probably be locked up in her bathroom the whole time, so you should survive," Chase added.

"Hmm. It's sounding a little better," Darcy agreed finally. Chase beamed.

"Alright then! Carol's on board already, but she's unpacking now, so we might not see her for another year. The girls should be arriving in another twenty minutes, so you might want to get settled in before they get here. I was just going out to get provisions for the trip," he declared. Darcy raised a brow in surprise.

"Surely you've already had the kitchen stocked?" he questioned cautiously. Chase laughed.

"Uhh, I wasn't really looking for _food_. More... err, more like 'precautionary devices'. And I'm not talking about life-jackets, if you know what I mean," he replied with playfully twinkling eyes. Darcy rolled his own eyes in response.

"Great. Why did you drag me on this boat if you're going to be spending every minute shagging?" he snapped.

"Because you love me, and because Eerin's pretty cute, so I might pick you up a few 'precautionary devices' just in case," he teased. Darcy scowled.

"See the end of this boat? Please go jump off it," he requested coolly. Chase sniggered as he headed off the docks and towards the nearest chemist. Darcy sighed, and turned back to the yacht with an expression of distaste. He enjoyed boating, he had his own yacht and a few sailboats back in England, but he desired nothing more than to spend the next week sleeping and reading, not stuck out in the middle of nowhere with two annoying females and the most disgustingly loving couple in the history of mankind.

Reluctantly he boarded, and headed to his room. It was surprisingly large and came with a small personal bathroom, so he was at least guaranteed privacy. His bags had already been laid on the double sized bed, so he zipped them open and immediately went about putting his clothes in the wardrobe provided. He'd brought with him plenty to keep him occupied for the week, so he anticipated spending most of his time in his room reading or marking papers from his class.

"And this is the deck. I think. I had the captain explain which bit was which for me, but I think I've forgotten already," he heard Chase's eager voice explain as he left his room and mounted the stairs to the deck.

"Oh, there's a pool! Isn't that _great_?" he heard Jannali exclaim with excitement.

"Drat. Does this mean I don't have a reason to throw that delightful sister of yours into the ocean?" he then heard Eerin question teasingly. He stopped his ascent suddenly, and then stepped back so he wouldn't be visible from the top deck.

"She's not _so_ bad – uh, well, actually, she is," Chase laughed. "But don't let her bother you. She's only here for Darcy," he assured her.

"Oh, it'll take more than one madwoman to bother me," she replied. He could hear the smile in her voice.

"But funnily enough, it'll only take one Professor to get your knickers in a twist," Chase sniggered.

"He only bothers me because he's smarter than I am," she laughed in her defence. "If he were an idiot, my vanity would be saved, and we could get along quite nicely. As it is, I think we're doomed to be constantly butting heads," she added playfully.

"Poor Darcy, I think he might just have found his match in you! You're just as sharp as he is! He's a great guy when you get to know him; he's got the wickedest sense of humour you could ever imagine. You two would get along really well, I think," Chase assured her.

"Hmm. Perhaps. But really, I can't forgive him for being my superior in seemingly every respect, _that's_ the root of out dislike," she replied.

"Oh look! We're setting sail!" Jannali sighed dreamily as the yacht gave a lurch, and began to move. Darcy grasped at the railing to hold himself secure.

"Did you girls want to unpack and maybe test out this pool? I'm going to talk to the cook about brunch, so you might as well get comfortable."

"That sounds great! Come on Eerin, let's unpack and go for a swim! Ooh, I'm so excited!" Jannali squealed excitedly.

"I can see," Eerin laughed. "Alright then, we might as well. Chase, would you mind showing me where my room is?" she requested.

Suddenly aware that he was in danger of being discovered, Darcy instantly reached for the first door he could find and sneaked inside.

"_Darcy_! Oh, I didn't know you'd already arrived!" came a dramatic purr from behind. Darcy felt himself wince.

"Oh. Carol. Sorry, wrong room," he muttered, turning to see the woman of his nightmares draped in the latest from the Chanel cruise line, trying to look sexy as she sat atop her bed, but she just looked... green. "Uh, if you'll excuse me," he blurted out as quickly as he could, ducking back out into the hall, by which time the coast was clear.

He sighed in relief, and shuddered.

Knowing his luck, he was surprised Carol wasn't naked.

He headed up to the main deck in silence, sitting himself down on the first available chair, put on his dark sunglasses and pulled the paperback he was currently reading from his pocket.

After a few minutes some of the crew started to set the dining table with all sorts of delicacies, fresh fruit, chocolate, champagne, proving that Chase really did tend to go all out when he was wooing a lady.

Chase made his appearance with the ladies just after the table had been fully set. At first Darcy couldn't recognise the smaller woman he saw, wearing a pair of waist high denim shorts and an old-fashioned blue and white striped bikini top, with long, silky dark hair flowing down to her waist, but when she turned, he suddenly knew _exactly_ who it was, and his heart literally jumped.

Eerin Kimba Beaumont was _gorgeous_. She had long, toned legs and a waist so slim he could probably wrap his hands around it and his fingers would meet, and although she wasn't as curvy as some, her chest has certainly been wasted in baggy clothes and hidden behind scarves. She looked like she'd walked out of a Katy Perry film clip or a retro pin-up girl magazine – or alternatively, his dreams. Suddenly everything that hadn't worked about her appearance _fitted_, her pixie-like face was given elegance and sex-appeal with her long locks that he just wanted to run his hands through, her limbs were no longer lanky and too thin, and her bones protruded slightly, but didn't jut awkwardly like Carol's. She was, all in all, a stunning creature.

He wanted to walk up to her, slip his hands around her waist to feel the silky smooth skin there, and whisper in her shell-like ear... '_let me draw you..._', before running his hands up her spine and into her curls.

Aware that he was staring, he suddenly returned to his book, but the words made no sense, they were just blurs on a page to him.

"Ladies, champagne?"

"Oh, that sounds _lovely_..."

"This is all so pretty! I don't want to eat it, I might disturb the masterpiece!"

"Go ahead, it needs disturbing."

"Well then, now that I've got an invitation I might just!"

"Rin, are you going to have a swim?"

"I thought I might just dip my feet a little at first, but I'll probably end up copying the Professor and sitting down with a good book."

"Well then Jan, will you do the honours with me?"

"I'd love to, Chase."

"Don't forget your champagne. We can sit in the spa."

"There's a spa? Oh, how _lovely_!"

"This champagne tastes like yumminess."

"Wow, I think you just invented a word, Eerin."

"I do that all the time, don't be surprised. I think I'm going to be classy and stay in the shallow end for now. Wouldn't want to get my champagne all wet."

"Uh, it's a liquid, so I... ah well, go ahead."

Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy watched as Eerin sipped her glass of sparkling pink champagne, before she strolled over to the shallow end of the on-deck pool. He felt his throat tighten as she put the glass down, and began unbuttoning her shorts to reveal the bikini bottoms, which were also waist high, but gave him a nice slither of skin for his eyes to roam over. He swallowed rather obviously as the shorts slid over her thighs, then knees, then calves, before falling in a small heap around her ankles. He was definitely for the idea that 'less is more' when the shorts finally dropped.

He ducked his head down immediately when she turned to glance in his direction. He stared at the words on the page furiously in an attempt to ignore her, but she came up to him all the same. Pretending he couldn't see her, he turned the page casually and continued to keep his head downturned, but out of the corner of his eye was staring at the tops of her well-toned thighs.

"You know, I've never seen anyone so interested in Haggard. I find him so intense that I have to stop reading every ten minutes and stare at a wall before going back in again. It took me _weeks_ to read '_The Ivory Child_'. I'm impressed at your concentration," she commented appreciatively. He turned his head up slowly, running his eyes over each little curve, but since he was wearing sunglasses, she probably had no idea. Suddenly, he had the best view on the harbour, but he wasn't looking at a single landmark of Sydney.

"I've found that with Haggard, however, I find it best to ignore the urge to take a break and continue so the rhythm isn't broken. His style is very similar to Kipling's in that manner," he replied simply, tilting his head so it looked as if he were staring into her eyes, when his gaze was really a bit lower.

"Not going to swim?"

"No, not today, I don't think."

"Well, have it your way then."

"I always do."

She bit her lip in an attempt to stop herself from making some sort of biting comeback. She merely gave a small laugh and shook her head slightly.

"I think I'm going to follow your example and read myself," she decided, taking her champagne and disappearing below deck for a moment. She returned with a slightly weathered paperback and strode over to the pool. Darcy watched the movement of her legs with intense fascination before she lay down on the edge of the pool, water lapping around her thighs, which were pressed together, her ankles crossing over each other in the air as she lay on her stomach, everything from the tops of her thighs upwards safe from the threat of the water. He watched the sun catch in her dark hair, casting it all the colours of the rainbow and more whilst she opened her book and began reading.

Slowly, as to not cause attention, he pulled a small pencil from his shirt pocket and flicked to the back of the book. To his luck there were a few blank end pages, and he surreptitiously tore one out, slipping it into the middle of the book. As if he didn't have control over his own hand, he began sketching Eerin, first simply, but then in intense detail. Over the next hour whilst she read and Chase and Jan splashed around playfully in the spa, he'd filled all the end pages and even the title page with sketches and little observational notes on his pupil.

By the time he'd run out of paper and pencil, she was sitting up and putting her book and empty glass of champagne aside. She gently hummed to herself as she crossed the deck to the table, and popped a strawberry into her mouth. She leant against the side, staring out into the waves as the wind tossed her hair around her body. Rationing his breaths, he slipped his book into his back pocket and headed over to the table himself, taking a strawberry and biting into it. The exquisite flavours burst onto his palate like a display of fireworks, and he washed it down with a mouthful of champagne, that was still icy and cool, despite the warm midday sun.

"I've not seen Carol. Did she decide to row back to shore?" she questioned curiously, when he decided to make his presence known by taking his proper place beside her.

"She's most likely throwing up in her bathroom. She doesn't agree with the ocean," he informed her simply. She laughed.

"Seems a bit ridiculous to come on a boat trip then, but I suppose that's her prerogative," she shrugged.

"I read through your first essay," he commented. She raised a brow.

"I thought we weren't getting them back until next week," she commented in surprise. He nodded.

"Yours was one of the first I marked. You can't have it back yet, and I can't tell you your mark, I'm afraid, but University regulations allow me to discuss it with you," he replied.

"Ah. I was a little worried about it actually," she confessed. "I think I misread a few things when I look back on them. I wish I could just rewrite the whole thing," she muttered.

"You can, if you would like, but it's not necessary. I was... impressed," he admitted finally, searching for the world. She looked slightly affronted. "It was well constructed, you didn't waste any room, and although you did exceed the word limit by –"

"It was less than ten percent! I was going to cut out a few more sentences in the first body paragraph, but when I read over it without them you would have lost at least two of the major links," she defended. He nodded.

"I know. You were the closest to the word limit that I've marked so far, however. One individual attempted to exceed it by at least five hundred words, he thought putting it in a smaller font would throw me off," he muttered, shaking his head at the boy's ignorance. "Like I said, your argument was well constructed, it was clear and concise, and your interpretations offered a new perspective that has barely been touched upon in other essays on the topic. I can't tell you your mark, but you're very much in the lead at the present," he informed her, trying to keep his tone clipped and business-like.

"Hmm. I still think I could have done it better. I should have had more on the mainstream perspective," she muttered thoughtfully. Inwardly, he was filled with a sense of pride. Clearly she had the same attitude to work as he – it could _always_ be improved.

"Yes, you probably could have done better. It was good, but not brilliant. In lieu of the fact that I've already failed several students in this essay, I'm giving the class a chance to resubmit. I didn't expect you to do so, but you may, if you would like. I'm expecting an improvement, Miss Beaumont, and this time, please stick to the assigned word limit," he requested, draining the last of his glass and turning away from her. He knew that by pushing her he would ensure the best result, and when she got her marks back, she would appreciate what he had done for her. "Are you staying on deck?" he questioned, glancing back to her. She looked irritated.

"Yes. I want to finish my book," she replied simply. He nodded.

"Enjoy it then. Personally, I thought his style was a little more developed in _Anil's Ghost_, but _The English Patient_ is definitely one of Ondaatje's best works," he commented. She raised her brow slightly in response, but nodded.

He descended the stairs and hurried to his room to fetch what he needed. A sketch book, pencils, an eraser, some charcoal, before he hurried up to the top deck, which overlooked the pool area, but remained relatively out of sight. He positioned himself in perfect view of Eerin just as she reached for the sunscreen. He hastily sketched the movements of her hands over her precious skin, feeling the heat of the day, but it could not be completely contributed to the hot sun he sat under. His breath caught when he glanced up to see her body glistening with the oily residue of the sunscreen when she lay down on the edge of the pool, returning to her book with interest.

He sketched her over and over, from different perspectives, some sections in detail, others simply traced, delighting every time she shifted. She remained a while on her stomach with her thighs pressed together and ankles crossed above her before lying on her side and holding herself up with her bent elbow, one leg draped sensually over the other as she twirled with the ends of her hair, before she moved again to lie on her back, the book held up above her to block the sun from her eyes.

Darcy had been interested in art for as long as he could remember. It was what inspired his interest in symbology and art history, but nothing compared to the joy of simply sketching what he saw before him at any given moment. He dabbled in several mediums, mostly charcoal; pastels, lead and paint, but he'd given sculpture a few attempts once or twice over the years. His current interest was in sketching, but a few months previous it had been watercolours.

By the time lunch was rolling around she had closed her book and pulled her shorts on again. Carol finally made her appearance, clutching at the railings for dear life, looking greener than he'd ever seen a human being before. She wretched over the side at the sudden dip of the yacht over a wave, before dramatically crying out for assistance. He watched, slightly amused, an altercation wherein Eerin attempted to assist Carol, but she only screeched and pulled away from her, returning below deck, either in search of something to throw up into, or his own presence to 'comfort' her. He laughed quietly to himself as Eerin poked her tongue out at Carol's retreating figure, before finishing off the last of the strawberries that Chase had not fed to Jan, and diving into the pool whilst the crew changed the setting for lunch.

He watched, fascinated by the curve of her limbs as she swum as elegantly and gracefully as a mermaid beneath the surface of the water, her hair flowing around her like a dark mane. She did a few laps, before floating on her back and staring up to the clear blue skies whilst Darcy sketched her.

He had always been fascinated by women. He was often compared to the fictitious symbolist Robert Langdon from Dan Brown's _The Da Vinci Code_, due to his research into the 'sacred feminine'. Some people even speculated that Langdon was based on him and his research, despite the fact that he had never gone on a search of the Holy Grail.

Women were so... interesting, though. They were a puzzle in every sense of the word. They were so insanely over-complicated and curious that he'd long since given up on completely understanding them, but it didn't put a halt to his curiosity, only increased it. And a woman like Eerin Beaumont... he wanted to write a thesis on the curve of her waist as it flared gently into her hips. He wanted to publish a series of reviews of each strand of hair on her perfect head. He wanted to count every single freckle on that lovely face and mark out the constellations. He wanted...

He shook his head to break himself from his trance. It was dangerous, thinking so much about someone like _her_! So what if she was pretty, she was young, annoying and petulant. There was no place for her in his life, she barely fit in as a student; it was a risky business, contemplating her in such a manner.

He went to the main deck for lunch after another half-hour, by this time, Carol had made her second appearance, apparently more at ease now that the boat had dropped anchor and was relatively still, however; she still looked slightly off-colour.

"Are you feeling any better, Carol?" Jannali enquired politely when the woman took her seat.

"Quite. I'm starved," she declared, not even glancing to the guest. "Darcy, however did you occupy yourself this morning? You must have been so _bored_!" she exclaimed in pity.

"Not at all, Carol," he replied simply, proceeding to fill his plate with food as the others did so. "I spent a great deal of time with... a book in front of me," he said, trying to be honest, but also not to give away the truth of his actions. He hated dishonesty, but he didn't want to embarrass himself and give Eerin the wrong idea, even though he admittedly didn't know what the _right_ idea was.

"Reading? Oh, poor you. You were so bored you had to read all morning. How dreary," she sighed dramatically; measuring out with intense scrutiny the exact amount of salad she could put on her plate.

"I enjoy reading, Carol," he muttered simply, taking a steak and depositing it on his plate.

"What were _you_ reading, Eerin?" Chase enquired curiously, turning to his guest.

"Me? Oh, Michael Ondaatje's _The English Patient_. It's my favourite film, and I've loved the book for years too," she replied. Jan laughed.

"She was _obsessed_ with that movie! She had the _biggest_ crush on Ralph Fiennes when she was about fourteen, fifteen –"

"Hmm. Just last year, was it?" Carol muttered dryly beneath her breath, but Jannali continued, clearly not hearing her.

"- and she would just watch it _over_ and _over_ again! It's why she wanted to go to Egypt, you know," she commented. Eerin's cheeks were blushing red, but she was fighting a smile.

"What can I say, when he's not playing Lord Voldemort, Ralph Fiennes is a bit of a babe," she sighed.

"She's had a lot of obsessions though, and they always relate back to England. She only ever gets crushes on English musicians or actors; she only ever watches English TV shows –"

"_The Bill_ happens to be a very epic show, missy, and so is _QI_," she defended with a laugh.

"Stephen Fry was the most recent, which explains the _QI_. She bought the box set of _Black Adder_ and _A Bit of Fry and Laurie_, as well as all his books," she added.

"That's right, reveal my obsession with England. That's okay; respect from peers is just so overrated. Who needs it?"

"You have an obsession with England?" Chase chuckled. "So is that why you joined Darcy's class then?" he questioned in surprise.

"No, but I suppose that's the way it's beginning to look to everyone else," she laughed, spooning some salad onto her plate. "I don't know what it is, perhaps the accents, but I'm addicted to the place. I don't understand why you would ever leave," she sighed.

"The weather is terrible there," Chase pointed out.

"Well that doesn't bother me. I love England," she declared firmly.

"She lived there for a while in year ten or eleven, doing an exchange, and then again at Cambridge last year. I was worried we'd never get her back," Jan laughed, her brown eyes sparkling prettily.

"Perfectly reasonable concern. I didn't _want_ to go back, if it wasn't for Jan and Carmen I probably would have stayed," Eerin replied with a small grin.

"Well then, a toast to Eerin staying Down Under so we had the privilege of meeting her!" Chase declared, raising a glass of champagne in mock toast. Darcy sipped his glass and Carol stared moodily at it, refusing to acknowledge Eerin.

After lunch, Carol made a big show of going in the pool, wearing some brand new bikini that showed off her pasty and unhealthy looking body.

"Oh Darcy, not going to have a swim?" she questioned teasingly, splashing some water in his direction.

"Uhh... no Carol, I don't think I shall," he muttered, when he took his usual place in a vacated corner that still allowed him good view of Eerin, but unfortunately, Carol interpreted it as some sort of desire to be near _her_. He pulled his iphone from his pocket and immediately proceeded to write an email to his sister Ana.

"Oh, you're emailing that darling sister of yours? Tell her I'm thinking of her," Carol requested, peering over his shoulder and dripping water over his head. He refused to turn, knowing his face would be pressed against the little cleavage she had.

"I won't have time if I want this to get her before –"

"Oh, but you're _such_ a quick typist!" she exclaimed, reluctantly returning to the pool, where she lounged around the edge, sticking her practically non-existent chest outwards in an attempt to catch his eye.

"You're mistaken; my typing is average, at best."

"But of course, you must have _so much_ typing to do, you should delegate one of your students to do it," she suggested.

"Students are in my class to learn, Carol, not type for me."

"Well it was just an idea," she huffed. "You would like Ana, Erin."

"It's Eerin, actually," Eerin retorted from her end of the pool, where she was floating languidly.

"What kind of name is _that_?" sniffled Carol with a frown.

"It's Koori," she informed her indelicately. Carol scoffed.

"Well, as I was _saying_, you would like Ana. She's about your age, perhaps a little older –"

"I understand that she's eighteen, actually, and I turn twenty pretty soon," she replied coolly.

"Humph. Well, it's close enough. Anyway, she's _such_ a lovely young woman. So poised, so elegant, so talented. She plays just about every instrument you could name, you know," she informed her factually.

"Can she play the kazoo? Because I don't think you can be truly accomplished in life until you can play the kazoo. And that funny little comb with a handkerchief over it," she retorted sarcastically.

"She's the picture of accomplishment though! She's good at music, art, she speaks English, French and German, she rides, she's terribly well-read, she can cook, she's such a talented girl," Carol sighed, glancing over to Darcy to see if he was acknowledging her praise of his sister.

"Good Lord. Professor, I didn't know you were related to Super Woman. Tell me, can _you_ leap tall buildings in a single bound too, or does that not run in the family?" Eerin questioned teasingly. Darcy glanced up from his iPhone.

"She's very talented. One of the few women I know who can really be called such a word," he replied with slight pride in his voice. Eerin raised a brow.

"Well I think your sister is quite singular. I've never met a girl who can do all of those things and still be human. We all have to have faults, you know," she laughed. Darcy shifted slightly in discomfort.

"That it understandable, however, Ana _can_ do all of those things and more. I don't think it's an unreasonable thing to expect from a young woman," he shrugged. Eerin's perfectly sculpted brow quirked slightly, as if in challenge.

"Oh really? So you expect this from women in your acquaintance," she stated with slight disbelief.

"Not... expect. I just think that the term 'talented' is applied a little too liberally. I don't know many women who really are," he shrugged.

"But how many 'talented' _men_ do you know?" she questioned with a frown.

"This has nothing to do with sexism."

"Actually, I think it has _everything_ to do with sexism. You say you think all those wonderful things that Carol here listed aren't unreasonable to expect in a young woman, but you've not mentioned men at all. So can men get away without having to learn to cook or speak three languages?" she asked, her tone clear and laced with disapproval.

"You're completely twisting my words. That wasn't what I meant at all," he objected.

"I'm occasionally in the habit of doing that. It's very dangerous to have an opinion around me, particularly concerning women. I'm afraid I don't agree with the expectation that women should be flawless," she replied simply, arching a playful grin. Darcy wanted to smile too – he was enjoying their little game.

"She's not flawless. No one is," he objected.

"Oh, I know some people that come awfully close to it!" Carol cried, staring at Darcy obviously. Eerin hid back a snigger.

"Uh-huh. So, Professor, do _you_ consider yourself flawless?" she questioned teasingly.

"No. I have plenty of flaws," he said simply.

"Hubris?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with being proud of something in your life," he objected. She laughed.

"Hmm. So which do you think is worse, Professor, pride or vanity? I'm trying to assess the quantities and their importance," she stated with a playful tone, but her eyes flashed with challenge.

"Vanity is a flaw, yes, but pride is not. Perhaps I am proud of several things in my life, particularly my sister, but I don't consider it my greatest 'flaw'," he retorted.

"Oh? And what, praytell, _is_?" she questioned curiously. He paused for a moment, considering his answer.

"I... I don't... forgive easily. My temper is... well, it can be called quick and... resentful. I tend to hold grudges, and am slow to heal. When my good opinion of someone has been lost, it's lost forever. That, I suppose, it not an attribute I'm proud of," he admitted finally. The challenge died in Eerin's eyes.

"Hmm. Unfortunate," she sighed. "I can't tease you on that. I must say, you picked your major character foils well, but at least I _can_ laugh at you about some of your others," she commented with a grin.

"Oh, he doesn't _have_ any other flaws, Erin!" Carol exclaimed.

"And what about your propensity to dislike everything around you?" she questioned teasingly, treading the water in a lazy motion, her brow arched.

"I'd say that's a reflection on _you_, not me," he retorted simply. She grinned.

"Oh, I'd like to hear how."

"Well, if you believe that I dislike everything around me, then it doesn't mean you've discovered my biggest flaw. It means you've revealed yours."

"Which is?"

"_Your_ propensity to wilfully misunderstand everything around you," he said calmly. Holding his gaze with steely challenge in his eyes, Eerin immediately started to laugh sincerely.

"I like how you turned that around," she grinned.

"Just thought you'd appreciate some of your own medicine," he informed her simply. Her dark eyes were twinkling with amusement.

"Touché. You're wrong about that being my biggest flaw, but it was well played, Professor," she assured him, swimming to the edge of the pool and climbing out. She wrapped a towel loosely around her waist and declared her intention of going downstairs to retrieve her book.

The moment she was gone, Carol immediately turned to Darcy.

"What a _horrible_ little brat! I just wanted to slap her the whole time she was speaking," she groaned. Darcy stared at the place she had been treading water when she was teasing him so mercilessly, recalling the path of the water as it ran in rivulets over her perfect skin. "But what can you expect, after what I've heard about the mother," she muttered meaningfully, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that Chase and Jan were too occupied to hear her. "Apparently she's a major gold-digger. Wants all her daughters married off to rich men. I suspect our little Jannali is looking closer at my brother's bank book than she is at his heart," she added.

Darcy frowned in concern as he glanced over to the couple. It was possible – Chase had a tendency to fall hard and fast for women who were no good for him. He hadn't really thought Jannali would be capable of such actions, but after all, it _did_ make sense.

"Regardless of their upbringing, I've found them both to be very... pleasant company," he admitted, regretting it the moment he opened his mouth. Carol's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, really? Even Miss Eerin Beaumont? Really, Darcy, I didn't know you had such... undeveloped tastes. She must be half your age," she commented. He scowled.

"She's nearly twenty. Larger age gaps have worked out happily, you know," he objected. "And it's not like I'm interested in a relationship with the girl. She's my student, and we come from completely different worlds. But I can still find her company pleasant," he snapped, turning back to his book.

"Pleasant? Eerin Beaumont is one of those unfortunate girls who enjoys using arts and false airs to make herself seem more intelligent and charming than she really is. It's a very cruel way of trapping young men," she declared pointedly.

"There's a cruelty to _all_ the arts women condescend to in an attempt to attract men, Carol," he snapped.

"Do you find her attractive?" Carol questioned with angry sharpness. Darcy groaned in annoyance.

"She's a very pretty girl, most people would. It's not a crime to consider a person of the opposite sex attractive – but it doesn't mean I want to marry her, Carol, so calm yourself," he instructed finally, his tone definite and firm. Carol pouted, and then moved to sunbake as close as she could to him whilst Eerin came up from bellow deck with her book in hand.

Suffice to say, as she sat in a position which allowed him to see straight down the front of her bikini top, he was very uncomfortable for the next few hours.

**A/N: There you go, a little more Darcy, a few people were complaining that they didn't get enough of him :D**


	6. Of Conversations and Cancer

"_There's a drumming noise inside my head,_

_It starts when you're around_

_Swear that you can hear it, _

_It makes such an almighty sound,_"

-Florence & The Machine, 'Drumming Song'

Eerin couldn't believe her eyes when she first saw the yacht. It was _incredible_ – more like a cruise ship than a personal boat! It even had a pool on the deck! She instantly felt in heaven, and she hadn't even boarded '_The Netherfield' _by that point.

By the time they got downstairs to see the bedroom they would be sharing (although it was most likely that Jan would be kipping in Chase's room) they were both calculating how much it would cost for them to purchase a yacht and live on it forever.

"It's not as big as Darcy's, but that's the way it always is. We're constantly competing, but he always comes out on top," Chase laughed as he showed the girls their room. Eerin instantly threw herself down on one of the beds and started rolling around, giggling with excitement. "In fact, when we were at Eton – or was it Harrow? No, it was Eton – we 'commandeered' his father's yacht and attempted to take it across the Channel. Not a good weekend, all up," he chuckled at the memory.

"Sounds like fun to me," Eerin commented, sitting up atop the bed. "Chase, my birthday is coming up. I want this yacht," she decided. Chase gave another chuckle.

"Well, I can't give you the yacht, but we could always host your party here, you know," he offered. Eerin's eyes went as wide as saucers.

"Oh my Lordie. I would _love_ that – but I'd have to inflict my friends and family on you, and that would be _way_ too much, particularly on my birthday. But it's a lovely offer," she assured him.

"I'm serious, please think about it, alright?" he requested earnestly. "I think it would be really special, and a great way for me to properly meet your parents," he added, with a small smile to Jan, who was blushing fiercely. Eerin sighed.

"Well, I'll _think_ about it, but I don't think I should accept, Chase, even though it's a lovely thought," she answered with a grin.

"Well, that's a start, and you _should_ accept – I know we'd all enjoy it," he assured her. "Alright then, I'll let you two change and see you up on deck in a few minutes," he decided, nodding to the girls and departing the room. Jan instantly sighed, and threw herself down on the bed next to her sister.

"He's so perfect," she hummed happily.

"That he is. If this boat is any indication of his hospitality – and taste – then I'd say you've caught yourself a pretty good catch, sis," Eerin laughed. "This is going to be really fun, and you and Chase will have plenty of time to... chat," she giggled. Jannali blushed bright red.

"_Rin!_" she scolded, only causing her sister to laugh harder.

"I understand if I end up sleeping in this room alone, you know," she assured her. Jan's blush increased.

"W – Would you? I mean, I don't know if Chase wants to –"

"He's a man, and you're gorgeous. Of course he wants to."

"Well, maybe he doesn't, I don't know," she shrugged quietly. "But if he _does_, then I'd like to too. Would you be okay with that?" she questioned with slight hesitation. Eerin nodded instantly.

"Of course. You have sexy time, and I'll dance around this room in my birthday suit. We all win. Well, except the furniture," she replied, fighting laughter. Jan giggled.

"Oh, Rinny, this all seems to perfect to be true!" she sighed dreamily.

"Hmm. I know. But it _is_, so make sure you enjoy it," she urged her sister. Jan frowned slightly, before nodding with determination.

"I will. I'm going to have fun. Chase is so wonderful and... I really love being with him. I think he's something special, Rinny. I can feel it," she informed her excitedly, sitting up and opening her suitcase.

"Me too. You guys are perfect together, and you'll have gorgeous babies."

"You've been spending too much time around Carmen," Jan giggled. Eerin beamed, and nodded firmly.

"Yep. She's very proud of corrupting me. Now come on, let's change so we can go for a swim!"

* * *

Eerin sighed as she overlooked the harbour later that night, lights shimmering off the dark waves, the boat rocking gently in the evening breeze. She shivered slightly, rubbing her bare arms.

She was startled to feel a coat slide over her shoulders, and turned her head to see the location of the coat-giver. Darcy moved to stand beside her, leaning against the railings and staring out onto the harbour with her.

"Thanks," she murmured. He nodded, and then silence fell over them again.

"I can see my flat from here," he commented randomly.

"I can see... the fish and chip place that gave me food poisoning when I was twelve," she squinted with a laugh, turning her gaze to Circular Quey. "And I used to spend every weekend in that museum, over there," she pointed, gesturing to the Museum of Contemporary Art, whose windows were lit up like stars in the sky.

"I can imagine you're not much of a fish and chip fan these days," he commented. She smiled, and laughed.

"Uhh... you're not going to believe this," she stated suddenly. He raised a brow.

"Oh, really?"

"Well... no. You won't," she practically giggled. His curiosity increased.

"Please, tell me," he requested, his tone earnest and sincere. She didn't want to admit how it sent shivers down her spine and put an immediate stop to her laughter, so pasted a playful smile onto her lips.

"Well... I've never, in my entire life, eaten fish. Well, _real_ fish, not extracts in sauce and stuff. In fact, I can probably count on one hand the times I've eaten any sort of meat," she informed him with a small smirk.

"You're right. I don't believe you."

"It's true! When it comes to meat I've always hated the taste, the smell, the texture, everything, _particularly_ fish. The smell is too much, so I've never tasted it. I refused to let meat get anywhere near my mouth – Mum has never been able to get me to take even the _smallest_ of bites of anything that once had a face," she declared proudly, between bursts of laughter.

"You're serious?" he exclaimed. She nodded.

"Jan might have mentioned that I'm a veggo. I also don't watch commercial TV or listen to advertised radio. I'm a bit of a hippy," she explained, her dark eyes twinkling with laughter.

"So how did you get food poisoning from the fish and chip shop?" he frowned.

"They _do_ serve food other than fish there, you know," she laughed. "It was one of the sauces that I drenched my chips with. I threw up a few minutes later all over my brand new joggers," she sighed, wincing slightly at the memory. "Sorry. I talk about myself a lot. Didn't mean to," she laughed with slight nervousness. He shrugged.

"That's alright. My sister thinks I'm a good listener," he replied simply.

"Where is she now?"

"She's back home, in England. She's starting her first term at Cambridge," he answered.

"What's she like? Is she just as perfect as Carol described?" she questioned, with a slight hint of tease in her tone.

"She's very talented at almost everything she applies herself to. She's determined, hardworking and clever, and I'm very proud of her," he replied after a short, thoughtful pause.

"And are you the cool older brother?" she enquired with a raised brow.

"Unfortunately, being almost twice her age, I'm much more akin to the protective guardian who doesn't let her do 'anything fun at all'," he drawled. Eerin nodded understandingly.

"Hmm. I have younger sisters too, I understand your meaning," she informed him. "You said she's musical?"

"Very. She plays the clarinet and flute very well. I recently bought her a piano to encourage her to broaden her musical interest," he explained.

"What kind?"

"A Steinway. I didn't know anything about pianos, and it seemed the most secure choice," he shrugged.

Eerin gave a low whistle. "Very nice. I have an upright Feurich, but my school used to have an old Steinway that I would practise on. It's a wonderful make. We have a Baldwin in storage, but it desperately needs new strings. It's another one of those things I'm saving for," she laughed.

"You play?" he questioned in surprise. She shrugged.

"I mess around a little with a few instruments. Another thing Jan might have told you – I'm in a band. Mostly just a few other miscreants, but we have fun," she answered.

Darcy said nothing, his mind deep in thought. The more he spoke to this girl – _woman_, the more it became apparent that he knew nothing about her at all. He had no idea she was interested in music or didn't eat meat, and he'd dined with her several times. He'd been teaching her classes for over a month – wasn't he supposed to know those things by that point?

"What do you play?"

"Well we all play a few different things. I normally do piano or acoustic guitar, but I've been known to pull out a violin or a cello from time to time, even though I'm awful at it, and I split vocals with one of the guys, Hamish. He's mostly guitar, but dabbles a bit with the piano," she explained. "Then there's Marshall, he does drums, and Kerry can do a bit of everything. He and Paul can play just about any instrument, so they always fill in whatever gaps we have," she added.

"What kind of music do you do?" he enquired with genuine curiosity.

"Well Hamish writes most of the songs, and I throw a few in every now and then. I guess you could call it... I don't suppose you've heard of 'indie'?" she questioned hopefully. He shook his head. "Well, it means 'independent'. We like to think we're a combination of _The Middle East_, _themillionstars, Snow Patrol_, _Angus and Julia Stone_ and _The Killers_, when we actually bother to bring our amps," she explained. "But a lot of the time it's just me and Hamish because the guys are always busy, so we sound like Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova or Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan," she added thoughtfully.

"I don't think I've heard of any of those people," he admitted.

"Hmm. Classical music buff?"

"In a way. I tend to listen to a fair bit of... older music. I'm currently listening to a lot of Chopin," he answered. She nodded.

"Try _Muse_. They're probably a bit too heavy for you, but technically they're brilliant," she assured him. "And _Aphex Twin_. But only the piano stuff. His techno stuff is terrible," she added. "And Yiruma. And Joe Hisashi, and –"

"I probably won't have time, you know," he pointed out. She sighed, and laughed.

"Sorry. You should never ask me about music. It's a topic that I can go on for hours about," she confessed. He nodded, and hid a small smile.

"Duly noted."

"We should probably go below deck. That's where all the fun is, right?" she questioned with a laugh. He shrugged.

"Depends on your idea of fun," he muttered. Eerin sniggered as she stepped away from the railings. He watched her with an intense stare as she held his jacket a little closer to her form, her bare feet glowing pale against the dark, highly polished floors of the deck.

In all his life he'd never felt so... attracted to another human being. He was filled with an incomprehensible desire to be near her, to talk to her, to have her look at him and to look at her in return. He simply couldn't understand the way in which she was drawing him to her. What kind of creature _was _Eerin Beaumont? She was loud, outspoken, flighty and teasing, but she was also beautiful. Was that the only thing that pulled him to her? Her beauty?

Or... was it something else? Something he didn't want to question himself on as he followed her downstairs like a puppy at her heels, eyes glued to the turn of her white neck. After all, he'd known many beautiful women in his life, he'd befriended them, worked with them, argued with them or bedded them – but he'd never _taught_ them.

He was well aware that he was in a dangerous position – standing on the boundary lines when he shouldn't even be able to see them from his distance. But in a very short amount of time he'd grown to want something that he really should _not_ be wanting.

He made an executive decision before entering the games room where the rest of the party was assembled.

Eerin Beaumont was for looking, but not touching.

* * *

Eerin stretched out languorously atop the Queen sized bed, giving a pleased sort of yawn that sounded more like a purr. She'd never had a more comfortable nights rest in her life – the gentle rocking of the boat had lulled her to sleep in her plush and insanely comfy bed, which she was able to stretch out in any position she felt like, and would still have had room for a few of her friends. And due to Jan's sleepover in Chase's room, she had the room all to herself.

_I could get used to this_, she thought to herself when she readied herself for the day, taking in the luxury surrounding her. She sighed happily after her shower before changing into a plain but sweet white summer dress that hugged her waist and folded out at the front, revealing the top of her baby-blue lace bikini top. She frowned slightly, feeling uncomfortable with the low cut of the dress, but shrugged it off as she brushed her long dark curls and slipped into a pair of thongs. She tied her hair back in a very loose ponytail at the nape of her neck with a plain blue ribbon, before swiping on a little makeup and stepping out of her room with confidence.

"Morning, Eerin," Chase greeted cheerfully at the table on deck, reaching for a buttered croissant with vigour. Jan looked positively flushed, but gorgeous as usual, whilst Carol just looked sick.

"Morning Chase, Jan, Carol, Professor," she greeted, taking her seat and nodding to everyone respectively.

"Tea, Rin?" Jan offered, passing the pot to her sister.

"Ah! Just what I needed," she sighed happily, pouring herself a cup.

"How did you sleep?" Chase asked politely.

"Brilliantly. I want to live on this thing, Chase. You're going to have a tough time getting me off next Saturday," she warned him. He chuckled.

"Does that mean you've thought about my offer?" he questioned with a grin.

"I have. And I still think I'd better not accept, but you're making it awfully difficult for me," she laughed. His grin grew broader.

"What is it, Chase? What was your offer?" Carol snapped insistently.

"Well, Eerin's twentieth is coming up soon, and I said I'd host it on the boat for her. She hasn't accepted yet, but I know she will," he informed her. Carol looked like she was about to object, but closed her mouth with an ugly pout.

"And when do you turn twenty?" Darcy found himself asking, without even realising it.

"About a week or two. It's nothing big, just another year gone," she shrugged with twinkling eyes.

"It's a coming of an age when you're no longer considered a teenager. It's a very significant time in a young person's life," he rationalised. "It would be a fitting manner in which to celebrate it," he added, hoping that he didn't sound too desperate. If she had a party on Chase's boat, it would be almost certain that he'd be invited, and he'd be able to see her.

"See? He's right. And after what we did on _his_ twentieth, a yacht party seems quite casual," Chase sniggered.

"And does that constitute as _never speaking of the matter again_?" Darcy hissed to his friend with anger. Eerin raised a curious brow.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing I can say in front of a lady," Chase assured her, unable to hide his smirk. Darcy rolled his emerald eyes.

"Actually, I think a boat party could be quite lovely," Carol said suddenly, startling those assembled at the table.

"Uh, Carol? Are you okay?" Chase questioned with slight hesitation.

"Oh shutup, Chase. I think it's a splendid idea. Invite all your friends. And those _dear_ parents of yours," she suggested, her tone so thick with false sweetness it could be drizzled over the pancakes Eerin was about to consume.

"I wouldn't have to invite Mum and Dad, would I?" she frowned slightly, glancing to Jan.

"It'd be a really good way for me to meet them, you know. And what parent wouldn't want to be at their daughter's twentieth birthday? I think it's a good idea, Rin," Chase pointed out conversationally. Eerin, however, was suddenly filled with a sense of dread.

"Right then, it's settled! We'll have your party on the harbour. Doesn't that sound _lovely,_ Darcy? Eerin Beaumont, plus all her friends and family!" Carol exclaimed with a broad smile to Darcy, who suddenly looked somewhat less inclined to celebrate Eerin's birth than he had a moment ago.

"What game are you playing, Carol?" he questioned her after breakfast, when the boat had given a rather impressive lurch and Carol nearly threw up. She was headed below deck to lay down for the remainder of the morning.

"Nothing, Darcy! Absolutely nothing at all. I just think you would get along, you know. I hear their mother is a hairdresser. Perhaps she could give you some tips about conditioner," she suggested in a teasing voice. "I'm about to go to my room, you know. We could –"

"It's a lovely day. I think I'll stay on deck, Carol," he interrupted her with a stern voice, stepping away from her immediately. She pouted.

"What, so you can stare at Eerin Beaumont all day?" she asked coolly.

"I wasn't staring at her all day."

"Well there was a bit too much staring going on for a teacher and his student, you know," she snapped.

"Whatever you want to believe, Carol," he muttered beneath his breath, turning away from her and heading to his room to retrieve a book.

He returned to deck to find Eerin already swimming laps, and Chase and Jan nowhere in sight. He settled in his usual position in silence, a cup of coffee beside him, the last few papers he needed to mark for his class before him. He was determined not to draw Eerin again that day. As he went over his sketches the night before, he came to same realisation that Carol had – he _was_ too interested in his student.

It was inappropriate.

As Eerin did a tumble turn at the end of the pool, her head bobbed above the surface just long enough to see the great William Darcy sitting down in the same cushioned seat by the pool he had assumed the day before.

_What's he doing there?_, she found herself questioning with confusion. She couldn't understand why he didn't read his book below deck, because he clearly didn't approve of the company above. It was quite clear that he wanted to avoid Carol at all costs, which only left Chase's company (as she was certain he didn't approve of either her or Jannali), and Chase was downstairs with Jan!

She wished _he_ would go downstairs too. He was pompous and arrogant and she didn't like speaking with him – but she found herself unable to resist the urge to flare up every time he even opened his mouth. She didn't want to be around him – she didn't trust herself with him, especially not after the night before.

It had started well enough, dinner was delicious and the harbour looked beautiful, but afterwards, she stayed up on the deck to stare out at the blinking lights. She didn't know how long she was out there after the others had gone down before she felt his coat slide over her shoulders. It was warm and spelt like... like a _man_, spice and musk with a hint of cologne. She never wanted to take it off, it was so intoxicating. After a brief conversation they went downstairs to join the others, which had only ended in disaster.

She'd fooled herself into thinking that perhaps he really _was_ a kind and considerate person, merely complicated, when he'd done such a lovely gesture like give her his coat. But when they went below deck, that illusion was shattered.

"Will you sunbake with me tomorrow, Eerin? I'm feeling awfully pasty, and it's _so _relaxing," Carol requested as she strolled around the games room with her almost non-existent chest thrown out before her, desperately trying to catch Darcy's eye.

"Uh, no thanks, cancer isn't my thing," she replied, turning her gaze back to her book, annoyed, but not injured with the minor distraction.

"Oh, but _you_'re so pale too! Not like Jannali, you've got such lovely skin, dear," Carol commented, smiling brilliantly to the blonde in the corner by her brother.

"Thank you, Carol. And you don't need to tan, you look wonderful and like Eerin said, tanning can cause cancer," she warned. Carol rolled her eyes.

"Oh _pish_. We won't be out long. Darcy, will you join us?" she questioned, turning to the professor as he began marking papers.

"No, Carol."

"But why ever not?" she exclaimed in disappointment.

"I have several reasons, Carol, the obvious aside," he replied, not even glancing up.

"Oh, Eerin, what could he _mean_?" Carol questioned with false innocence, turning back to Eerin.

"Well there are a few things that spring to mind, such as how dangerous tanning is. But maybe he just doesn't like the company he'll be with," she shrugged simply. Carol pouted.

"No. I _demand_ you tell me your reasons, Darcy! Oh, I'll never be at peace until I know them!" she sighed dramatically. Darcy muttered something in annoyance beneath his breath, and put his pen down.

"Well, as Miss Beaumont commented, tanning _is_ dangerous, and the company does leave something wanting," he snapped. Carol paled, instantly sensing his meaning, and Eerin snapped her book shut.

"Nice, Professor," she drawled sarcastically.

"But it would defeat the purpose if I were to join in," continued, ignoring Eerin's objections. "You, being a woman, are perfectly aware that when wearing just a bikini –"

"I prefer to tan topless."

Darcy winced at Carol's comment, before beginning again. "Women are aware of the attention they draw when they sunbake. The practise is more akin to a strip-show than it is a tanning session," he continued, his tone slightly clipped.

"And you believe all women to be like this?" Eerin stated coolly. He raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Am I wrong?" he questioned rhetorically. Her dark eyes shone with anger.

"_Yes_. Contrary to your belief, women aren't always on the prowl. Lying in the sun can be a perfectly innocent practise, Professor," she snapped.

"How could it be anything but loaded with secret agendas? After all, it's so easy for women to go out and get a safe tan in private, why do they need to risk their health for something that could be replicated so easily?" he threw back. Eerin scowled.

"Some women, I admit, do it just to get attention. But not _all_ women," she insisted angrily.

"You're too innocent to understand the truth of the matter. Perhaps you, in your naïveté, wouldn't do it to attract the attention of some unsuspecting male – but you're still young. It won't be long yet," he reasoned calmly.

"What, so I'm some sort of loaded gun? Is there a countdown to when I'm going to start acting like a slut to get men to notice me?"

"You seem rather offended by this," he commented suddenly, as if in surprise.

"Damn _right_ I'm offended, how can you have such a disrespectful opinion of women?" she questioned incredulously.

"Experience. Something you're lacking," he replied calmly.

"Well not all women are what you think they are. I don't know what kind of experience you have, but it doesn't justify thinking the worst of people before you really know them," she insisted.

"Actually, it does," he replied simply, his tone clipped. She wondered if she'd crossed a line when she noted Chase's concerned glance to his friend, and her professor returned his gaze to his laptop, and that wonder paused another angry retort. Clearly he did have some sort of negative experience, and whilst she still wanted to hit him over the head for his horrible opinions of women, she resisted the urge to continue.

Diving beneath the water for another lap, Eerin tried to forget the night before. She couldn't believe her Professor. How could he be so arrogant and prejudiced? But she endeavoured to let it pass, he was an incredibly interesting person, and she could allow him a few faults for his brilliance of mind.

"Going to come for a swim, Darcy?" Chase questioned cheerfully, stepping up onto the deck an hour or so before lunch with a broad grin on his face.

"Hmm. Emerged then, have you?"

"Not answering the question, mate," Chase chuckled, pulling his shirt off. Eerin whistled from the pool, causing his grin to broaden.

"Sorry Rin, you're the wrong sister," he sighed playfully.

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate the view," she teased. Chase rolled his eyes. "So, worn out my sister already, have you?"

"Actually, Carol trapped her. Couldn't save her, I'm afraid," he sighed. "Now Darce, seriously, get in the pool."

"I can't swim."

"You bloody well _can_, that's just what you told the sport teacher at Eton to get out of the carnival," he challenged. Darcy gave an annoyed scowl as Eerin sniggered. "I told the teacher I had my periods, his excuse was a little better," he informed her with a laugh.

"I have no desire to go swimming. And besides, I didn't bring trunks," he retorted calmly, turning back to his papers.

"I've got some you can borrow, or you could _really_ give Rinny a show and go skinny-dipping," he suggested teasingly.

"You're the one that's eager to get me naked, Chase."

"You _did_ bring trunks, I know because I _made_ you pack that ridiculously priced Calvin Kline pair that Ana bought for you," he threw back.

"Come on Chase, he's chicken. You're wasting your time," Eerin sighed, floating on her back lazily, her eyes fluttering to a close. Silently Chase made an obscene gesture of appreciation for her form to Darcy, who rolled his eyes.

"_Hot!_" Chase mouthed.

"_Young_," Darcy returned silently, with a disapproving frown.

"Well, we need something to encourage him. If Darcy agrees to jump in here, Rin, would you agree to take your top off?" Chase questioned curiously.

"Hmm. I might agree to it, but that doesn't mean I'd _honour _my agreement," she replied cheekily. "'Sides, I doubt the Professor would want to see, Chase," she laughed. Darcy shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to contemplate how very much he _would_ like to see her topless.

"He _is_ a man, you know," Chase pointed out. "Despite recent suspicions," he added, upon seeing his friend's scowl.

"Really? A man? Of flesh and blood and everything? Good Lord, I had no idea!" she exclaimed in mock horror.

"I wouldn't doubt him – quiet and sensible he may be, but dispassionate he most certainly is _not_," Chase warned her, his tone hinted slightly at a sense of seriousness.

"Hmm. Bad boy, Professor?" she questioned with a raised brow and small smirk. He raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Man, Miss Beaumont. Not boy," he corrected simply, his emerald eyes flashing intensely and driving right through her. Her smirk fell instantly, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. Because it was true – he most certainly was _not _a boy. Forcing a laugh, she turned to Chase.

"Well it looks like there'll be no convincing him. Shame, really," she sighed dramatically.

"Darce, just go downstairs and change, or else I'll give Carol the key to your cabin," Chase threatened.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Hey, _you_ might be the 'master' when it comes to getting into trouble, but that doesn't mean I don't have a dark side too, old friend," he warned. Growling in agitation, Darcy tossed his papers aside and went below deck.

"I'm impressed."

"Actually, he'd never have done it unless he wanted to himself. Normally I can never get him to do anything he doesn't want to do," he informed her honestly, stepping into the pool.

"So he was the 'master' of trouble?" she questioned conspiratorially. Chase laughed.

"No, actually. _I _was the master of getting _into_ trouble, _he _was the master of _making_ it," he corrected himself. "He was only ever caught once, but I doubt there's anyone in the history of the English school system who made as much mischief as he did. He once landed a helicopter in the courtyard at Eton – that was the only time they ever pinned anything to him," he informed her, sniggering at the memory. "He just nodded when the Headmaster screamed at him to report to his office," he added.

"Why would he do something like that?" she laughed. The merriment died from Chase's eyes.

"Actually, it was the day his parents passed away. That was the only reason they let him stay at school," he shrugged. Eerin's lips fell.

"Oh, God. I didn't know about that," she muttered quietly.

"He doesn't talk about it. He got called into the Headmaster's office, he told him the news, and then he left without a word. I don't even know where he got the helicopter, I think he just wanted to do something crazy," he explained simply. "Anyway, he stopped talking after that."

"So that explains why he never says a thing, huh," she commented thoughtfully.

"Oh, no, I mean he stopped talking _completely_. He didn't say a word to anyone for nearly a year, he used sign language," he corrected himself. Eerin's mouth fell.

"Are you serious? He just – stopped talking?" she exclaimed. Chase nodded.

"I didn't mind, he was never a talkative bugger anyway, I didn't notice the change," he laughed. "And Ana was quite literally only a baby then, so she couldn't exactly have a conversation with him," he added.

"It explains why he's so..."

"Oh, no, he's always been like that. He's a bit weird."

"How long have you known him?"

"Well, I was seven; he was a few years above me. Must be about... wow, twenty something years? Makes me feel pretty old," he sighed miserably.

"Twenty years. I've not even _lived_ twenty years..." she muttered incredulously.

"Well it's more like twenty-five if I wanted to be honest. But I don't, so let's pretend that I only just finished school and I'm still a wee little babe," he decided. Eerin laughed while he swum lazily around. "He likes you, you know," he commented suddenly.

"No, he doesn't. We always argue," she replied with a scoff. Chase grinned.

"That's his way of showing you. He thinks you're adorable," he informed her. She raised a brow in doubt.

"Yeah. Right. Well, being such a man-magnet, I'm not surprised. I'm totally reeling them in, with my trust issues, emotional baggage and ridiculous schedule," she drawled sarcastically.

"Hey, don't say that, Rin! Jan said the same thing; that you always put yourself down. You really shouldn't," he insisted. Eerin laughed.

"I'm just honest. But my ego thanks you for your kind words," she assured him with a grin.

"Well tell your ego that it's welcome, and there's plenty more where that came from. You're a good kid, Rin," he praised.

"Getting sentimental, Bingley?" came a drawling voice from behind them. Eerin turned her head to discover the source of the comment, her jaw dropping the moment she did.

Darcy was... a _God_. She'd never seen a more handsome man in her life than her Professor as he stood on the edge of the pool, wearing nothing but a pair of dark green board shorts that hung nicely on his perfect hips. He was toned but not overly bulky, it was clear he worked out, but not to a disgusting extent. She swallowed rather obviously as she noted the graceful, elegant curve of his hips and the V shaped indentations on either side of his lower stomach, she didn't know what it was called, but it was _hot_. There was something incredibly noble about the way his body was built, as if he were _designed_ for superiority.

"Hell no. With two gorgeous women on this boat, I don't have time to go gay on you, my friend," he laughed. Darcy rolled his eyes, and glanced to Eerin, who was doing her best to conceal her blush. He gave the smallest hints of a smirk, as if he were perfectly aware of how he was making her feel. She cursed the sudden rushing of her blood. It wasn't fair – he was her _teacher_, and he was a prick. She shouldn't be attracted to him, it was wrong.

As if he particularly wanted to make her suffer, he then dived into the water, his muscles shifting beneath his pale but not quite pasty skin. It was almost as if the man was a born creature of the water, with the way he moved and broke the surface. Water clung to his dark hair and pasted itself around his face as he rose, tiny droplets slowly running over his skin in a rather tempting fashion.

"See? I bet you're feeling much better already," Chase commented cheerfully.

"I'm feeling quite the same, only now I'm wet," Darcy concluded, raising his powerful arms and cutting through the water. Eerin tried not to watch as he swum up and down the pool, it was almost as if he were a professional swimmer. Chase chuckled and splashed her when he saw the line of her gaze.

"_He likes you_," he insisted, his voice so quiet it was almost as if he were mouthing the words. Eerin rolled her eyes, and firmly shook her head.

He didn't like her, because she didn't like him. They didn't get along – Chase's theory made no sense.

So she would have been _considerably_ surprised to know how very true Chase's suspicions were – the only difference being that the term 'like' was being far surpassed.

"So Rin's pretty hot, you know," Chase commented a few hours later, when he and Darcy were below deck playing a game of pool.

"You've got a girlfriend."

"Yeah, and Jan's gorgeous, but so is Rin. I was _very_ surprised when she put that bikini on," he said meaningfully. "You can't honestly pretend you aren't attracted to her. She's _stunning_."

Darcy practically growled in agitation as he struck the ball, knowing another into the corner pocket. "She's attractive, yes. I won't deny that she's a beautiful girl," he sighed.

"Aha, but it's a bit more than just finding her attractive. I know you like her," Chase teased, his eyes twinkling playfully.

"I don't think that has anything to do with anything. Regardless of whether or not I'm attracted to the girl, she's no more than a child. I'm not entering a relationship with a girl that's less than two years older than the girl I raised," he declared. Chase raised a brow.

"You're not _old_, you know. Yeah, she's younger, but it's not a _huge_ gap, it only seems like that," he shrugged, striking his own ball, which bounced harmlessly against the edge. "All I'm saying is that she's a really great bird, and you're just letting her think the worst of you. Loosen up the attitude and you might find her loosening your trousers a little."

"Oh, lovely, Chase. Ever eloquent," Darcy drawled.

"It has to have been a while."

"You hardly need to remind me," he grunted, taking his shot. He sunk another ball.

"But Laura wasn't the last, was she?" he frowned. Darcy sighed miserably, and took another shot. "Oh my _Lord_. You've not been shagged in nearly a _year_?" he cried in shock. Darcy winced.

"That's right, announce my unwilling celibacy to the entire boat, I'm sure your sister would leap on the chance to relieve it for me," he hissed angrily.

"Sorry... but _seriously_? You're not even picking up for one night stands or anything?" he questioned.

"What, and be treated the same way? Do you have _any_ idea how it feels to know that all women see is my bank balance? Not _one_ of the mindless hussies who try to leap into my bed gives a damn about me. There's no way I'm screwing myself over anymore," he snapped.

"Well you're just going to be screwing yourself if you keep it in your trousers much longer," Chase pointed out, before giving a low whistle. "I don't know. But that's pretty insane, I mean... you _need_ women," he muttered thoughtfully. Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose and winced. "And more than most men do. That's nearly unimaginable for someone like you," he explained.

"I've grown weary of it all. I feel like it's about time I starve til I see what I want," he decided with a tired sigh.

"Just go have some fling with a gorgeous Australian girl. Who cares? Give yourself a little comfort," Chase advised.

"No. I _liked_ having another person in my life. I _liked_ having Laura there. I liked coming home from work to see her, I liked having meals with her and talking and making love – not drunken sex," he explained with exasperation. "I don't know. I think I'm too old to want some fling with a woman I don't know. I'm not talking about settling down and having children, I just... I like having a girlfriend," he sighed. "Lord, I'm too old to use that word. I like having... a companion," he corrected himself.

"I know what you mean. I feel the same way about Jan. But I think that's what Eerin wants too, you know. She seems like that," he urged him. "Listen, you avoided women when you were raising Ana because you didn't want them to get close to her, right?" he questioned, to which Darcy grunted slightly. "Now I think you don't want them to get close to _you_. But Eerin is different, trust me," he assured him.

"Stop trying to set me up with the girl! I like her, but it doesn't mean I want to step out with her. She's a student," Darcy finished firmly, sinking the eight ball. "That's a game. Now, would you like to lose at something else, or should we play again?" he questioned.

"Bollocks. Let's go back up deck and see if we can push Carol overboard."

Darcy smirked, and found himself laughing. He wouldn't mind doing that himself...

**A/N: Sigh, the feeling of relief when one no longer has to wake up and go to school... but I've been keeping myself busy! I'm almost finished writing up this fic, and will continue to post every few days before I start work on the next. I'm glad so many people seem to be enjoying this, I can certainly say it's refreshing to be able to write without having to break for a few hour's study...**

**Anyways, I've been getting up to a little reading. Mostly real books with pages and covers and stuff (am currently loving Francois Sagan), but this is a good opportunity for me to start reading fanfiction again! I have only really had a look at one in the P&P section over the past week or so, toasted cupcake's '11:11', which I am quite enjoying, and as she was so lovely to me over this past year I would recommend you have a looksee, I find it enjoyable :D Are there any good fics anyone can recommend I read? Any that were popular or interesting over this past year?**

**One more thing, 'barbara rose' raised a few questions in a recent review that I think I should probably address:**

**First of all, I don't know the exact rules regarding student/teacher relationships in Australian universities, but my limited research has of course revealed that they are not supposed to happen, which is perfectly understandable. I don't know about penalties and such, but if anyone has any information for me then that would be nice :D**

**Secondly, yes, the course at the moment is only a semester. However, there is an advanced course that goes on for another semester, but I shan't tell you if Eerin does it or not. **

**Thirdly, Darcy is wealthy because it's Darcy. No big explanations, family money, property, investments that his cousin Richard manages, it's explained later on but I don't think it's especially important. And yes, Darcy is still a baby in terms of professorship, but this is his very first time teaching a class of his own, remember, and at thirty-four that's not TOO crazy. **

**Fourthly, Eerin asked him earlier why he came to Australia, and I believe he replied 'to teach'. He was offered a job there teaching the course, and as he didn't have his own class in England he took it in Oz, nothing too fancy. I'm keeping it simple. **

**Bingley's company is an architectural design business, but he's not involved in the actual design, just the management. I didn't put it in because once again, it's not important to the plot. He lives not far from the CBD, in my head. I originally had him in Newtown, but I changed my mind as it wasn't quite fancy enough for him, I felt. Maybe near the Quey? Wherever, it's up to you. **

**Sixthly (I think, I lost count), I assume by the question 'what symbolism do you give to her [Eerin's] Aboriginal heritage?', you're asking how I manifest the significance of Eerin being Koori. There are a few conversations, but it also contributes to a connection to country that is challenged throughout the plot. And I found it cute that you wondered if Darcy ''misconstrued' her features or is it a way to render Eerin as an 'other' while still being in a mainstream white anglo world?' Because Sydney isn't really anglo. It's such a mixture that I don't think that was my intention. **

**Seventhly (my word processor tells me that this is really a word, I had no idea), Eerin's hair is long because she's lazy, and it makes her haircut all the more dramatic later in the story. Long hair is nice in theory, and I know waist-long hair isn't really a standard, but it's not unheard of. **

**Eighthly, she's in her third year, and her classmates don't like her because she's loud and opinionated, and a little weird. I thought that came across, but I might not have emphasised it enough. The rudeness that she expressed to Darcy doesn't impress everyone, you see. Her 'escape' from their disapproval is sort of her band, but she doesn't have a fixed escape. Possibly chocolate, but she does like to walk, as you will discover later. **

**Ninthly, Jan works as an editor for a magazine. Nothing important to the plot, but she's able to work from home when she wants and her schedule isn't so fixed. Jan isn't **_**that **_**much older, she's about twenty-four. However, in this, Auntie Gardiner is only twenty-eight, making them a lot closer. **

**And finally, tenthly, sorry about the colloquialisms, I try to make the definition clear, but point it out to me if the meaning doesn't come across :D**

**Anyway, thank you for the plethora of questions, very interesting, hope you continue to enjoy reading this ^_^**


	7. Of Comments and Creeps

"_Was it something that I said or did?  
Was it something that I should have kept hid?  
If you leave me hanging I don't know what I'll do,"_

-Brandon Flowers, 'Was it something I said?'

The week passed with incredible comfort for Eerin, who couldn't imagine having a better time in all her life. More than anything she appreciated the break from her family, but it did give her a good chance to catch up on some reading.

After the first few days she decided to begin an attempt to avoid both Darcy and Carol. She couldn't stand conversing with either one of them; they were both so condescending and rude. Carol she could tolerate, because it made her inwardly laugh, but when it came to Darcy she was at a loss. He infuriated her, but she couldn't resist reacting!

"Am I a terrible person because I don't want to go back to the real world?" Jan sighed dramatically, throwing herself down atop Eerin's bed as she packed. They were due to start back for the harbour in a few hours, and she wanted to ensure she hadn't left anything behind before the last minute scrabble to get everything out of her room.

"No. You're a normal person. The thought of returning to reality nearly makes me sick," Eerin replied cheerfully, tossing a pile of dresses into her open suitcase.

"But you_ must_ have missed Dad, you're always spending time with him," Jan reasoned. Eerin snorted.

"Hmm. Actually, this trip made me realise how little an influence he has on me. I wasn't missing him at all, which is really weird," she commented with a sigh. "Anyway, I think I'm going to go insane if I have to stay there much longer," she added.

"Well come live with me!"

"I can't afford to pay board, Jan, you know it. And my job is back in Hertfordshire," she reminded her.

"Well get a new job, and you _know_ I don't expect you to pay board. You're my baby sister, Rin, and I just want you to be happy," she insisted. Eerin sighed.

"It's a lovely offer, and I wish I could, but I just can't impose on you. Especially now that you and Chase are together, how many nights has he spent over at your place? Sorry, but there are no headphones in the world that could block out disturbing noises from your room," she teased. Jan's cheeks flushed bright red.

"_Eerin_!" she scolded.

Eerin laughed. "Sorry, sis. But it's only true, you two are like bloody rabbits," she teased. She gave another laugh as Jan's cheeks went so red she could light up the entire harbour.

"It's not like that," Jan insisted firmly. Eerin raised a brow challengingly, and Jan sighed, rolling over on the bed to lie comfortably and still meet Eerin's eyes. "Most of the time we just sit and talk. He's so... when we're alone, and it's all quiet, he's just so sweet, Eerin. We talk about all sorts of things, and most of the time he just likes holding me," she explained fondly. Eerin smiled.

"Wow. You seem really... happy," she commented in reply. Jan beamed, and nodded.

"I am," she insisted. "Anyway, what about you? What's your plan now?" she questioned curiously, returning to a serious tone. Eerin shrugged.

"I dunno. I have to stay in the shire, but I think after this semester I might take the plunge and get another transfer. Bristol or Oxford this time, I think," she decided.

"Well... just as long as you're taking care of yourself. I worry about you, Rin," Jan frowned. Eerin grinned.

"Understandable. But I'll be fine," she assured her firmly, before tossing another few things into her suitcase with abandon. "So we should probably catch the train back to your flat, you know. I don't want to lug this all the way to town hall," she laughed, taking in her large suitcase.

"Oh. Well, _actually_, Mum said she'd pick us up and take us out to dinner before she takes you home. Isn't that great?" Jan informed her cheerfully.

"You're shitting me."

"No? Why would I do that?" she replied in surprise. Eerin suddenly felt sick.

"Oh God. _Mum is coming_? Please tell me she's not going to talk to Chase. She'll scare him _right_ away," she begged. Jan shrugged.

"Well, I'm not sure. I know he wants to meet her. I guess they will," she answered simply. "Are you okay, Rin?"

"Nup. I think I'm going above deck for a minute," she sighed, running a hand through her dark hair, and heading for the stairs.

The summer air was terribly refreshing, but it did little to help her problem. Her mother was _not_ the kind of woman one wanted to introduce to pleasant young men like Chase. She'd rip him apart. She groaned and leant against the railing separating her from the dark ocean, wondering if it would be possible to swim back to shore and spare herself the embarrassment.

"Are you ill?"

"Hmm. An interesting question," she sighed, upon hearing Darcy's voice behind her. She hadn't even noticed him above deck. "Physically I'm fine. Aesthetically I can only hope. _Mentally_ I'm quite unwell," she answered. "Do you have any relatives that you're particularly ashamed of?" she questioned curiously.

Darcy contemplated her question. His first thought was his Aunt Catherine, but then his mind leapt to Richard. And Arianna. And Victor. And Victor's wife. And his Aunt Lucinda and Uncle Matlock. And his Grandfather. Just about all of his mother's side of the family. He didn't have any relatives on his father's side.

"Family is family," he replied finally, with a simple shrug.

"Bah. I think I'm adopted," she muttered, before giving a long, lazy sigh. "I really need to finish packing, and I left poor Janni all alone," she decided, strolling back to the stairs leading down below deck.

"Hmm, what was the poor baby complaining about _now_?" Carol questioned in annoyance, sliding up next to him the moment the girl was gone.

"I'm not sure."

"Won't it be _lovely_ when we don't have to put up with her anymore? Jannali is sweet, I know, but the other one... I can't stand her," she commented. Darcy gave a small grunt of disagreement, staring at the place she had just been with darkened eyes. "Oh, I forgot, you've got a thing for the chit. Is it the chest she was so brazenly revealing to the world, after making that hypocritical comment about tanning?" she questioned teasingly.

"She does have a nice body, Carol. But it's her eyes that make her a truly remarkable example of a woman," he replied simply. Carol raised a critical brow.

"Just an ordinary shade of hazel, I'd say."

"No. They're much more than that. They lend something very elegant, sophisticated and exotic to her face. They're the kind of eyes Byron would write sonnets about," he concluded. Carol scoffed.

"Sorry if I don't run out to fetch a pair of dirt-coloured contact lenses," she drawled.

"And that's the difference between you two – _you_ would run to buy a pair of contact lenses. She wouldn't give a damn," he added. "Good day, Carol," he finished, before leaving the huffy woman alone on deck with only her angry scowl to keep her company.

* * *

"Eerin? Eerin? _Eerin_?"

Eerin immediately snapped out of her daze.

"Sorry. Jan must have slipped something special into this," she apologised, taking another sip of her tea.

"It's so lovely to see your flat, Chase. Whoever did you use to decorate it?" Fiona exclaimed, looking around the spacious and stylish flat in obvious appreciation.

"Oh. My sister Louise did it for me, she came over with me for a little while a few years ago," Chase informed her, topping up his lover's wine before sitting down on his plush lounge.

The most wonderful week of Eerin's life couldn't have ended on a worse note than being greeted on the harbour by her ridiculous excuse for a mother, Leena _and_ Kylie. It was a million times worse than she expected, particularly when they all went round to Chase's flat for a cup of tea.

"It's totally awesome. Your house should have its own facebook page."

"What's that?" he questioned with a laugh, turning to Leena, who offered the suggestion.

"Oh my God. You don't have facebook?" Leena practically screamed.

"It's like myspace, but only sluts use myspace," Kylie informed him instantly. He nodded.

"Uh, okay. Well, I assume it's a compliment that I'm in this 'facebook' category," he chuckled.

"Totes."

"Don't even try to understand their language, it only makes sense if you're using MSN," Eerin advised.

"Well, this is cosy. Are you enjoying yourself, Darcy?" Carol questioned, stepping back in the room. Darcy was sitting in an armchair on the corner, staring out the window.

"Oh, he's not said a word, the poor dear! Must be so tired from the trip, I'll bet," Fiona commented loudly. Darcy nearly winced, and glanced back to her. He looked rather annoyed.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, but his irritation as clear as he turned back to the window.

"Um, Mum, I'm not sure if I said so before, but this is Eerin's Professor, William Darcy. He was on the boat with us," Jan said, trying to break the tension in the room.

"Oh, I knew that! I read an article about him!" Fiona cried eagerly.

"And what publication did you find this in?" Carol questioned with a small smirk.

"Nine MSN News, of course!"

"How did I know," Carol drawled sarcastically, strolling over to the chaise and dramatically throwing herself down on it.

"So have you been in Sydney long, William?" Fiona questioned.

"It's Darcy. And it's been about a month," he answered coolly. Fiona blanched, clearly insulted.

"Hmm. Well it's good you seem so pleased about it," she snapped with a huff. Eerin nearly hit herself over the head with her glass of wine.

"Mum, shouldn't we be headed back now? I mean, it's getting late, and it'll be about an hours drive," she pointed out.

"Shutup, Rinny, we want to stay and hang out. You're never any fun," Leena sniffed.

"Yeah. Why are you so _boring_?" Kylie questioned incredulously. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"Quiet girls. We'll go soon and stop off at Maccas on our way home," Fiona snapped.

"Mum, can't we go shopping?" Leena whined.

"No. You can go shopping tomorrow. You know what your father's like if we leave him with Maiya too long – they'll have blown each other's brains out," she said firmly.

"Well we wouldn't want any casualties," Carol threw in with no attempt at subtlety.

"Seriously, Mum. I just want to go home, I'm tired," Eerin added somewhat anxiously.

"Oh shutup, for goodness sake. You're always thinking of yourself, Eerin. How did I raise such a selfish and undeserving daughter?" Fiona questioned incredulously.

"You can berate me in the car, Mum. Chase is probably tired too, we don't want to be rude," she said calmly.

"Selfish girl..." Fiona muttered beneath her breath, before giving a dramatic sigh. "Well girls, it seems like your sister is in an awful rush to get home. We must apologise for interfering with her schedule, driving for an hour to come pick her up. We really should be more considerate," she snapped.

"Mum, there's no need to –"

"Shut _up_, Eerin. If you're so impatient we'll go. Honestly, you've got the _worst_ attitude I've ever seen, I don't know what side of the family you –"

"_Have_ you finished, or did you intend on being inconsiderate for the rest of the evening, too?" Darcy questioned coolly, interrupting the woman's tirade. He was filled with anger – how could she be so cruel to her own child?

"_Well_. Perhaps, Eerin, I've been too harsh on you," Fiona huffed, rising to her feet. "You're not rude, you've just been spending too much time around your Professor!" she declared furiously. "Come on girls, grab your things, I think it's time we left," she finished, snatching up Leena and Kylie's wrists and practically dragging them out of the room.

"I'm sorry. _Really_ sorry," Eerin hissed, before running after them. When the door closed and they were gone, Jannali let out a groan.

"I'm _so_ sorry too, Chase. I should probably go," she muttered ashamedly.

"Hey, there's no problem. Why don't you just go have a shower or something and I'll come join you in a few minutes, huh babe?" he suggested cheekily. Jan blushed, before giving him a quick peck on the lips and disappearing down the hall. "Hell. Fiona seems a bit of a handle," he muttered, turning back to his friend and sister.

"The woman is deranged," Darcy insisted instantly.

"Completely and _totally_ uncouth. Honestly, I don't know how she escaped Bedlam," Carol threw in.

"I didn't mean like that. But she did seem really critical to Eerin," Chase interjected.

"While singing the praises of every other miscreant child she's ever produced. The woman is _insane_, Chase," Darcy snapped, rising from his chair. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I seriously hope you aren't intending on marrying into _that_. You'd be better off jumping out that window. The mother is unhinged and the children are brats. You haven't the best of taste," he added curtly.

"Hey. Forgot my bag."

Darcy didn't even bother to turn around. He simply closed his eyes and winced, wishing he could simply implode while Eerin picked up her purse. He waited until he heard the door close before releasing his breath.

"Good one, man," Chase muttered bitterly, turning away from his friend.

"Well I'd say 'bravo', but you'd probably think I were insensitive," Carol commented with glee. "Oh! The look on her face!" she squealed delightedly.

"Shut up, Carol. Just – shut up," he growled furiously, grabbing his jacket, laptop bag and suitcase and storming out of the flat.

He was thankful he didn't see her on his way down, but another part of him wished he had. He didn't know what to say to her, but the words 'I'm sorry' would probably have come into it. In truth he had no idea what he'd say. He only knew that he'd screwed up any chance of Eerin Beaumont thinking well of him.

And he didn't know why that thought was so horrible.

* * *

Eerin was really _not_ looking forward to her first class back at University with Professor Darcy. She was... genuinely _hurt_ by what he said. She knew it was true, her mother _was _ridiculous, but still, how could he be so horrible about it?

"Alright, so he's a prick, but he's still sex on toast," Carmen rationalised as they met up before her tutorial.

"He's a really _big_ prick, and that overwhelms the sexiness. I hate him," she insisted.

"Then why do you look so pretty today?" Carmen questioned teasingly. Unconsciously Eerin entwined a curl in her long, slender fingers. She wore a dark waist-high jeans and a cute little pink and cream chemise blouse that was meant to be worn without a bra. She left her tanned leather jacket open so it didn't hide the blouse, but she probably would have felt more comfortable if it were zipped up to her neck. Her long hair trailed down her back and she wore a simple pair of lace up jazz flats to complete the ensemble.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You'd better hope it's not cold in the classroom, or else –"

"Yeah, shut up, love," Eerin scowled, before sighing into her chocolate tea. "I want to yell at him, but I'm too hurt to. It pisses me off," she confessed.

"He's a man. Listen, your class is about to start, so you might as well get into it. It can't help freaking yourself out," she urged her. Eerin nodded.

"Alright. I might as well," she muttered, picking up her scarf and winding it around her neck.

"Come on. It's pretty warm today, you'll be taking that off in two seconds," Carmen frowned.

"Quiet, wench. You still driving me home?"

"Hell yes, try not to be late. Text me when you're out," she instructed, turning back to her coffee.

Eerin walked across to the university grounds with determination. She was determined not to let her annoying professor get the best of her, and determined not to make an idiot of herself by screaming out obscenities when the opened his mouth.

The class was only half-full when she walked in, taking her usual seat and pulling out her notebook computer. By the time it was on and functioning, the class had arrived, and Darcy was once more commanding the room with his presence.

"Your essays. I want you all to rewrite them in time for your next tutorial. They were wretched," he informed the class, passing out papers without meeting anyone's eye. Eerin muttered a small 'thank you' when taking hers from him, but his eyes didn't flicker to hers.

_Good_, she thought. _He's going to ignore me too. This is easy_.

She glanced down at her paper. Ninety-four point five, rounded up to ninety-five.

She wanted to laugh. Trust Professor Darcy to be so precise!

She tucked the paper into her bag, next to the rewritten copy that she would wait to hand in. She heard a chorus of groans from behind her but ignored them.

"Apparently there should be a new student in this tutorial class, but as I don't see him, I can only assume that Mister Collins has died. Now, I thought we might begin the lesson with an explanation of why you all failed so miserably," Darcy began, before pausing. "Well, with the exception of one individual who did very well. The rest of you aren't trying hard enough," he added, as if in afterthought. "Now, the main problem I encountered when marking your –"

"Sorry, Professor, I got lost," was the puffy apology as the door was pulled open, and a lanky young man stumbled into the room.

"Quite alright. Please leave," Darcy replied simply. The boy blinked in surprise.

"Sorry?" he wheezed.

"If you're in this tutorial class, you've been in my lectures. Therefore, you would have heard me say that I don't tolerate lateness. Ergo, you've lost your chance," he concluded calmly.

"But – but I got lost!" he cried, completely aghast.

"And now you will proceed to do the same somewhere else."

The boy instantly started wheezing uncontrollably. It was as if he were having some sort of attack. "Well I – I –"

"Oh, for goodness sakes. Sit down," Darcy snapped, clearly annoyed by the display before him.

The boy was tall and lanky. He _looked_ to be of a ridiculous height, but as he passed Darcy, he was a good two or three inches shorter. His skinny, pallid frame made him look ill and gave the illusion of tallness. He had short red hair and ugly brown eyes, his face completely covered in freckles. He moved awkwardly and smelt of sweat and MacDonald's. His beady little eyes scanned the room, passing over the near hundreds of empty seats, before landing on the free space beside Eerin in the front row.

"Hi," he greeted, sitting beside her with a broad grin. A few people in the back rows sniggered.

"Hi," she muttered, edging away slightly and taking off her scarf. She could _feel_ his body heat.

"I'm Bill."

"Good to know."

"What's your name?"

"Eerin."

"That's pretty."

"Good to know."

"As touching as this display of natural selection is, I do have a class to run," Darcy interrupted.

"Umm, sir, could we turn the air conditioning on?" Bill questioned nervously.

"Please. Seriously. And air freshener. And chloroform. Anything," Eerin muttered beneath her breath.

"Sorry, Eerin?"

"Nothing, Bob."

"Bill."

"Good to know."

Scowling at the two, Darcy grabbed the remote for the air conditioning and flicked it on, cold air instantly filling the classroom. The air from the machine smelt a lot better than Bill whats-his-name, so Eerin was instantly relieved.

The lesson resumed on from there, consisting of Darcy's criticisms of the essays, and details on how they could be improved. Eerin diligently took down notes, well aware that Bill was doing nothing but staring at her, and breathing heavily. Every ten minutes he would inch closer to her, until he was practically staring down her shirt.

"Yes, Mister Collins, we are aware that Miss Beaumont is wearing a thin blouse, but could you please wait 'til after class to attempt to stick your face in her chest?" Darcy snapped finally, when Bill was so close Eerin had to physically lean away so he wasn't touching her. "Mister Collins!" he repeated angrily, when the boy didn't take note of what was being said. The class was sniggering, but Bill was edging closer and closer.

Eerin jumped out of her seat suddenly when his hand moved to grab at her chest.

"_Don't_ touch me!" she cried furiously, clutching her laptop to her chest as if it would conceal Bill's prying eyes from her.

"My hand slipped," he insisted instantly, before looking around the room, suddenly realising that all eyes were on him. "It really did!" he cried loudly, his cheeks flushing.

"Mister Collins, you will sit at the back of the classroom from now on, and refrain from putting your hand on any part of a woman's person without her consent. I will deal with you later. Do you understand me?" Darcy questioned furiously. Bill's ears turned red.

"But –"

"Now. Move your things, or I'll be forced to report you to the police," he instructed coolly.

In a rather sulky fashion, Bill picked up his bag and laptop and skulked to the back of the room, away from any females, whilst the rest of the class sniggered.

"Miss Beaumont, you may now sit down, your virtue is safe," Darcy directed. Hesitatingly, Eerin resumed her place. "And in the future, if you wish to avoid such occurrences, try wearing a bra," he added, unsure of where his coldness was coming from, causing the entire class to burst into uncontrollable laughter. Eerin's cheeks flushed brightly and her eyes flashed darkly.

"In the future, you'd best avoid sticking your head up your arse by wearing underwear, _sir_," she spat curtly, picking up her things and storming out of the classroom.

"Should I go after her?" Bill asked excitedly.

"No, just continue touching yourself under the desk, as if I couldn't see," Darcy snapped, pulling the door open. "Everyone get out, you have an early mark. Go home and rewrite those essays," he commanded coolly. His students immediately hurried out of the room, frightened of their fearsome teacher. He threw his papers into his briefcase and stormed out of the room when they'd left.

How could he be so _stupid, _and so abominably rude? Why did he always say such horrible things when she was around? What strange force was making him do it each time he spoke with her?

She didn't deserve what he said to her. The boy had just attempted to grope her in class, and he didn't seem that gentle, either. She'd been embarrassed and abused and he only made it worse. He didn't blame her from storming out; he'd have done no less. He'd just been sent into some crazy rage, when she came into the classroom wearing _that blouse_! He loved that blouse the moment he saw it. He wanted to be buried with it. No, he wanted to be buried with the image of Eerin Beaumont, wearing that blouse in a cold room. He would erase the ridiculous boy from the picture, however.

But to see her wearing _that blouse_ whilst the boy was attempting to stick his face into her cleavage was too much for him. He wanted to punch him in the face and scream out that she was _his_, and no one else could have her.

_Besides_, he thought to himself, _you couldn't have made more of a mess of things if you'd said that, anyway_.

His eyes searched the grounds for her. He didn't have to look long; she was being tightly hugged by some dark haired girl. She looked rather angry.

His heart told him to go up and speak to her, to apologise. But his head said it was too soon, and she was obviously seeking comfort in a friend. He didn't need to intrude.

Swallowing his bitter disappointment, he turned to the carpark. He'd have to make it up to her some other way.

He sighed before climbing into his car – it was getting too much for him. He needed someone to talk to. Someone to reason with. Someone who would give him advice.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed to talk to Richard.

"You're a bad person, that's all I can say," his cousin informed him with a yawn over the phone when he returned home that evening.

"That's _not_ helping!" Darcy insisted into the speaker phone while he shaved. "Listen, I told you everything. What do you make of the situation?"

"Alright, so you clearly have feelings for this girl," Richard began, in his most efficient tone.

"I don't –"

"You do. You want to shag the bird, and if she's half as fit as you described, then _I _want to shag her, and I'm not even on the same continent," he interrupted. "But you're one of those sissy 'I'm-in-touch-with-my-feminine-side' blokes, so you don't just want to shag her, you want to hold hands in the park and talk about kittens and shit. So you have feelings for her," he concluded. Darcy sighed, and lowered the razor from his face.

"Fine. I have feelings for her," he admitted.

"You little sissy. You've known her for what, a month?" Richard sniggered.

"_Not helping_," Darcy growled, as Richard's sniggers died.

"Alright, alright. So, you have feelings for her, and she has feelings for you."

"I doubt it, not after what I've said to her," he objected. Richard snorted sarcastically.

"Bollocks. She talks to you, and doesn't run away the moment you enter a room. Clearly the old Fitzwilliam charm is working."

"Does it make you sad to think you could never love anyone more than you love your reflection?" Darcy asked curtly.

"Hey, if my reflection could fuck me senseless I'd be set."

"Cretin."

"Cousin, Darcy. More speech problems, I see," he sighed. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Shut up. So you think she might have feelings for me too?" he questioned.

"Well, I can't be sure, but from what you've described, I think there's something there. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, you _are_ a bit of a handsome chap."

"Golly. I feel so wonderful now," Darcy drawled sarcastically.

"Shut up, Professor moaps-a-lot. I think you just need to let her know that you're human, and that you have a nice side too. Is there any way you could see her out of the classroom?" Richard questioned.

"Well, Chase was talking about throwing her a birthday party on his yacht..." he muttered thoughtfully.

"Perfect. You turn up, all suave and handsome with an amazing present, make her laugh, joke about how rude you were and how pretty girls make you nervous, and before you know it she'll be on her knees."

"I _really_ hope you mean begging, not something else."

"You're a strange boy. That's what you hope for? Freak."

"Oh shut up, pillock. So what should I get her?" he questioned, returning the razor to his face.

"Well, lingerie would be too obvious. I'm going to say either perfume or jewellery."

"But I already like the way she smells," he frowned. Richard scoffed.

"Of _course_ you do, I forgot you were a fag. Then go for the jewellery. What does she normally wear?"

"Uh, I don't see her wear earrings, she wears a lot of bracelets, just cheap, fashionable ones," he shrugged. "Uhhh, a necklace? Occasionally she'll wear one with an owl or a birdcage on the end, but it depends on what she's wearing," he explained.

"Is she gold or silver?"

"Uhh... I don't know."

"My, my. So the Great William Darcy, who notices _everything_, can't recall if she's a gold or silver girl? How shocking," Richard sniggered. Darcy scowled.

"She doesn't wear much jewellery, and it's usually just cheap bronze," he snapped. "What about white gold? Or maybe rose?" he offered in slight exasperation.

"Good. Well, I'm recommending a chain."

"Just a chain?"

"A really _nice _one. You can get chains that you can use as a necklace, a bracelet or an anklet, and that way she could just put whatever pendant she wants on it. It means she won't have to leave it at home when she wants to wear her owl or birdcage," he reasoned.

"Richard, you're frighteningly good at this," Darcy commented in surprise.

"Hey, you can look at a cave painting and instantly determine everything from the diet to the religious beliefs of an ancient socety. I can work out how to get into women's pants. Fair trade off," he reasoned.

"Shut up. I'm hanging up and going to Cartier. I'll send you a picture when I've bought one," he decided.

"Good luck, cuz."

"Oh, and do apologise to whatever girl you have lying next to you in bed that you've asked to keep quiet."

"It's okay, she doesn't speak English. Thinks I'm the Prime Minister. This is an important international call regarding terrorism or some crap like that."

"You bastard."

"Thank you."

"I'm hanging up."

"Alright then, I'll be waiting for that picture. Good luck," he replied, before hanging up.

Darcy smiled as he surveyed his reflection.

Perhaps it _would_ be a good idea...

**A/N: Alright, more issues to address. **

**First of all, there is no definite way to pronounce Eerin's name. In my head I pronounce it 'AIR-RIN', similar to 'Erin' but with more emphasis on the vowels. You could also pronounce it 'E-RIN', as if in a Kiwi accent and you almost clearly say 'E', but that's personal preference. **

**AGES:**

**Eerin: 19 turning 20**

**Darcy: 34 turning 35**

**Chase: 30, or around about, possibly less**

**Jannali: 24**

**Carol: 32**

**Carmen: 22**

**Richard: 38 turning 39**

**Ana: 18**

**Maiya: 18 turning 19**

**Kylie: 16, turning 17**

**Leena: 15**

**YES, age will be a big issue in this. Well, fairly big. Bigger than my other fics, at least. **

**YES, Wickham shows up, and very soon, but he isn't hugely important. Not as much as he was in 'Sweet Lolita', at least. I'd keep an eye on Carol, instead...**

**Sorry if I made Chase seem like a sex pest, but I cleared that up a little in this chapter. I hope. Anyway, a band four refers to the New South Wales (where this story is set) School Certificate, which Kylie and Leena are currently going for, and you do in year ten. The highest you can get is a band six, and then five, and there's a bit of a gap to four, and then three, two, and one. An overall band four isn't great...**


	8. Of Pubs and Prats

"_I was so jealous, I nearly ran away,_

_I was so jealous, I really couldn't say_

_What was wrong with me; I got some bad disease,_

_I was so sick for you babe,_"

-Lisa Mitchell, 'So Jealous'

Eerin had never been so humiliated in her entire life. She just wanted to block it all out, everything that had happened.

"It's alright, you know. Darcy was probably just trying to lighten the mood, I bet he didn't know how to act," Carmen assured her as they wandered around the busy city. Eerin hadn't felt like going home yet, and just wanted to forget her horrible day for a few moments before she had to face her mother on coupon night.

"Yeah. Okay," she muttered quietly.

"Rin, it's not going to happen again. That guy was a creep," she insisted, placing a calming hand on her friend's shoulder.

"I just feel... really dirty right now. I don't know. Tainted," she sighed, hugging herself tightly.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Listen, why don't we go to that Irish pub you like? You can get drunk and when you can't remember what your name is I'll take you home," she suggested. Eerin laughed.

"Alright, I guess so. I mean, it gives us a chance to walk down Elizabeth Street anyway," she shrugged. Carmen beamed.

"Brilliant. We'll drool in the Chanel windows."

Eerin felt herself smiling and nodding as she linked arms with her friend. The sun was dying over the tops of beautiful buildings, illuminating everything in a golden light. She felt refreshed just being outside.

"Oops, sorry," came a sudden apology when Eerin, in her daydreaming, bumped into a tall, solid male frame.

"No, it was my fault," she insisted, stepping away from him with a small, polite smile. He was very handsome, reasonably tall with spiked up brown hair and kind blue eyes, a bit of stubble over his jaw. He wasn't wearing designer or anything particularly fancy, which was unusual for those wandering around in Elizabeth Street, but he still looked perfectly at home in the city. He'd just walked out from the post office, thus their encounter.

"Hmm. Should be fight over who bumped into who, or are you happy enough to take my apology?" he questioned in a slightly cockney British accent.

"Only if you'll take mine too," she laughed with another smile.

"Well, I suppose we're even. Where were you headed?" he questioned curiously, with a charming grin.

"Just to the pub down the road," Carmen answered before Eerin could object. The man's eyes widened slightly.

"Really? I was going there myself," he exclaimed in happy surprise. "Well, why don't we toddle over there together? I'm Graham, by the way," he introduced, reaching out to shake their hands.

"I'm Carmen," Carmen informed him eagerly, nearly crushing his hand.

"And you?"

"Eerin," was her somewhat nervous reply. He grinned.

"That's really pretty. So do you guys live around here?" he questioned curiously. They both shook their heads.

"We're students over at the University, we just came out for a drink before we drive home," Carmen explained.

"Really? I know someone over there, but I doubt you've met him before. So, would you like to share a drink with me?" he offered charmingly.

"Why not? You game, Rin?" Carmen questioned her friend.

"Sure," she shrugged. Graham beamed.

"Excellent. Let's go then," he declared, before his gaze caught on something over Eerin's shoulder. His grin turned to a frown.

"What is it?" they both questioned, turning around. Eerin couldn't be sure, but she thought she could see... no. She was probably wrong. After all, Darcy was rich, but he didn't look like the kind to do his shopping himself.

"Nothing. Just someone I used to know," Graham shrugged, putting on another smile. "Alright ladies, lets go get drunk," he suggested, turning back in the direction of the pub and walking with purpose in his gait.

Eerin allowed herself to actually have _fun_ that evening. Graham was funny, entertaining and clever, and knew how to keep two girls amused. Time passed quickly in his company, and Eerin wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the company, but she was quickly finding him more and more attractive.

"Oh, shoot. We'd best be getting back, Rin," Carmen sighed unhappily, glancing at her watch a few hours after they'd arrived.

"Are you serious? Can't you stay for another drink?" he begged hopefully. Eerin laughed.

"Sorry, it's a fair drive back to our town. But this was nice," she assured him with a smile.

"Well, at least you thought it was nice. Now, I appear to have lost my mobile number. Can I have yours?" he questioned with a cheeky grin. Both Eerin and Carmen groaned.

"That was _bad_," Eerin informed him indelicately. He laughed.

"All the same, I think I'd like it," he replied with a small smile. Unable to stop grinning, Eerin put her number into his phone, and Carmen did the same, however, as she pointed out in the car, he was really only interested in _Eerin_'s number.

"That's fine with me, hun. When you're wearing a blouse like that it's pretty hard _not_ to get attention," she assured her.

"He was really nice though. And pretty damn hot," Eerin commented appreciatively, pulling on her seatbelt.

"Do you feel better?"

"Actually, I think I do. Now I'm kind of excited, you know," she replied honestly, a broad grin overtaking her features. Carmen laughed.

"Good. You should invite him to your party, you know," she pointed out.

"I don't know. Chase said he wanted my family to come so he could get to know them. I don't want to frighten Graham away," she explained.

"Babe, just invite him. It's in a week anyway, and you'll have plenty of time to talk to your parents and make sure they know how to behave," Carmen objected. Eerin sighed.

"Alright. Maybe. I'll see how it goes. I think I'll call him and have lunch or something, and if I like him when I'm sober I'll ask him to come," she decided firmly.

"Hey, when we were standing in the street, did you see –"

"Professor Darcy? Yeah, I think so, and he looked _pissed_," she replied.

"I know! It wasn't some sort of 'oh I'm in a bad mood' thing, he was throwing daggers, and it was right at Graham. I think there's some history there," Carmen pointed out. Eerin nodded.

"Definitely. I'd like to _hope _he was just sour because he realised how completely inappropriate he was behaving today, but I don't think so," she sighed. "I dunno. At first I couldn't be sure, but I'm pretty certain he looked angry at Graham. And do you remember what he said about it? He said he was someone he 'used to know'. You don't say that about an old acquaintance, you say that about some sort of enemy," she agreed.

"It was weird. But it'll be pretty funny to see them both at the party, they might duke it out," Carmen laughed, pulling out of the underground carpark.

"I can't believe my Professor is going to my birthday party. I might as well host it at Maccas and wear a paper hat," she groaned miserably.

"Hey, your Professor is hot, you know. I wouldn't mind being set up with him," she grinned.

"Good. That's what I'll do. I'll set you two up and I'll enjoy the party with Graham."

"Good conviction there, babe. Anyway, we need to go out tomorrow and find you a killer dress for this party. I'm thinking something tiny, tight and sequined," Carmen decided firmly.

"It'll have to be early, I'm working at the spa from twelve to nine," she informed her. "Actually, it's supposed to be 'fancy'. Carol sees it as an opportunity to use her hostess skills, and I think she thinks none of my friends have nice dresses or anything," she shrugged.

"So... are we talking a repeat of our year ten or year twelve formal?" Carmen questioned with a slight frown.

"Well, I'd say twelve. If not fancier," she decided.

"Well, at least we get to be fancy pants. We'll go to Myer or Smik and find something. Or maybe even Cue. Or we could go to the city and see what they have in the QVB," she shrugged.

"I don't want to spend a thousand dollars on my dress, Car. Something simple but elegant," Eerin warned. Carmen laughed.

"I'm sure we could find something elegant with sequins and diamontes," she assured her playfully. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"_I'm_ the one that's been drinking, babe. _I_ should be making giddy suggestions," she reminded her.

"The difference is you need to get drunk to make those. I need to get drunk to _stop_ making them," Carmen explained. Eerin laughed, and shook her head slightly, before turning her gaze out the window. "Feeling better?" she questioned again.

"Yeah. Much better already."

"Good. Now, where did we land on the sequins?

* * *

Darcy wanted to kick something. He wanted to rip something apart. He wanted to destroy something.

What was Wickham doing in Sydney? And how did he know Eerin and her Italian friend? What was that _scum_ doing, talking to Eerin?

He rationed his breaths and tried to remain calm as he sank into the lounge, running his hands through his dark hair.

He was... furious. He wanted to kill Graham-Bloody-Wickham; he wanted to make sure he _never_ came near Eerin again. Not _his_ Eerin. He could find some other woman in the city to hurt, but he had no right to touch what didn't belong to him.

Darcy stopped for a moment.

Since when had Eerin been 'his', he wondered? He frowned as he cast his mind back to the events of that day – at some point in his jealousy, he must have started to consider her his own possession. But that was ridiculous, he barely knew her! He had no reason to look at her as such!

He groaned and swung his long legs over the side of the sofa, frightening his cat Boots, who had been sitting comfortably in the corner. She hissed at him angrily, but he took no notice.

There was no use denying it. He'd gone past thinking of Eerin Beaumont as anything but his. Seeing her there, talking to Graham as if she hadn't a care in the world, it had filled him with possessive anger. She belonged to _him_, no one else. So what if she was a student? At least she was _his_ student.

He reached for the phone to inform Richard of the new developments, before restraining himself with a sigh. He couldn't talk about it at that point. He just wanted to have a shower and get some rest. He would see Eerin in a few days at their next tutorial, if not in the lecture, and he'd apologise then.

* * *

"Sound fun. But won't you be a little embarrassed to turn up to some family gig with a guy no one has ever met before?" Graham laughed a few days later as Eerin sat with him in the coffee shop by the University before her Symbology and Iconography tutorial was to begin.

She'd done well at avoiding Darcy, most of her time had been consumed by work, shopping with Carmen, lunch and coffee with Graham, or stressful conversations with Jan, who was assisting Carol in the preparation for the party, who refused to speak with Eerin directly. But she knew that she could no longer stay out of his sight, in the lecture all she had to do was sit at the back, away from him, but there would be no escaping him in her tutorial class.

"Nah. I'll be embarrassed no matter who turns up, just as long as my family are there. They're terrible, all of them but Jannali," she informed him, sipping her tea. He laughed.

"So this Chase guy is only hosting the party to make your sister like him?" he questioned.

"That's what I think, he seems really into her. But the reasons don't bother me, I get a yacht party out of it," she laughed. "I mean, I have to put up with Carol and Darcy, but other than that, I'm game for the challenge," she shrugged.

Graham frowned slightly.

"What's Chase's last name?"

"Bingley. Why do you ask?" she replied curiously. He shrugged.

"Uh, and let me guess. 'Darcy' is none other than Professor William F. Darcy," he stated with a wary sigh. A switch clicked in Eerin's brain – it was true! She _had_ seen Graham and Darcy exchange angry glares the other day in the street!

"You know him?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"I guess I used to. What do you think of him?" he asked with slight hesitation.

"Well I've admired his work for years, but he's a complete and total jerk. I'm sorry if you still think well of him or something, but... he's a prick. He completely embarrassed me in class the other day," she said firmly. Graham chuckled.

"You know, I think we should start a club. You're the only girl I've ever met who doesn't like Darcy. It'll be a small club, but we'll be united in our hatred of him," he decided.

"And we'll have jackets."

"And a complementary biscuit-basket sent out to members once a week," Graham added with a playful twinkle in his eyes. Eerin smiled into her cup as she took a sip of her tea, and waited til she could proceed with more enquiries.

"So you don't like him?" she asked carefully.

"Uhhh... no. I kind of despise him. We have a lot of history," he explained with a shrug. Eerin raised a curious brow. "Well, we've known each other for years. Even longer than Darcy has known Chase Bingley. We grew up in the same area for a while before I moved to London most of the year with my Mum," he began. "I would still go up to Pemberley, that's his family estate, for holidays though," he explained.

"So you were friends?"

"Well, I guess you could have called us that for a while," he shrugged. "I mean, my Dad was close with him, but he and my Mum split up, so I was back and forth a lot. Dad lived up in a town called Lambton, which is near the estate. He worked for Darcy's father," he informed her. "When my Dad died, Mister Darcy kept up the tradition of keeping me during the holidays. He felt sorry for me, and did his best to help out. I was kind of like a second son to him," he explained.

"Did you get along with Darcy junior?" Eerin questioned curiously. Graham gave a stale laugh.

"For a little while, yes. But when he was seven he started at some fancy boarding school, and he thought he was too good for little old me. I tended to follow his Dad around when I was at Pemberley, because Darcy thought I was scum and didn't want to hang out," he answered. "I didn't care, though. I mean, it was a bit insulting, but he's a prat, so I try not to think about it," he shrugged.

"It certainly sounds like Darcy," she agreed. He laughed, and nodded.

"Hmm. Well, if it had been just that I wouldn't really have hated him. His parents died when he was about sixteen, seventeen. He stole some guys helicopter and tried to kill himself by crashing it into the school, you know," he informed her. She nodded.

"I'd heard something similar to that."

"He went really weird after that. Stopped talking to anyone, never had a smile, not even for little Ana, who was only a few months old," he explained. "He dropped off the radar; left school, moved to London, took Ana and refused to let her speak to anyone without a royal title. He raised her to be a real cow, spoilt and bratty. Thinks she's the Queen of Sheba," he added with a slight roll of his eyes as he played with his napkin.

"I didn't know he raised his little sister when he was sixteen. It must have been kind of hard for him," she muttered quietly.

"I wouldn't feel that sorry for him, he saw it as the opportunity to finally take over everything his Dad had left him and do things _his_ way. Which included cutting me out," he informed her with a small shrug and a wistful smile. "I was supposed to get a trust fund from Old Mister Darcy to help me get an education. Darcy took care of _that_, so now I'm backpacking around the world, looking for work wherever they'll take me," he explained sadly.

"So he just cut you out?" she exclaimed in shock. He nodded, and then turned back to ripping his napkin apart.

"Yeah. I didn't expect any less. I think he bought a yacht with it. He's bad news, Eerin. I wouldn't advise you get chummy with him," he warned. She slowly nodded as she sipped her tea.

Could it be true? She knew she shouldn't believe everything this relative stranger told her, but it _did_ seem like him, and she really wanted to believe it was true. It would confirm her suspicion that Darcy was a piece of scum.

"I need to go to class, but please, come to the party. I'd like to see a friendly face," she requested, pushing her confusing thoughts aside. He gave a small smile.

"As much as I'd love to celebrate your birthday, Rin, I don't know if it'd be a good idea. Might bring up some bad memories," he shrugged.

"Please. For me?" she practically pleaded. He chuckled.

"Alright. I'll see what I can do," he assured her with a charming grin.

"Good! Well, you have the place and time and date, I guess I'll see you there," she smiled, before picking up her bag and practically skipping across to the university grounds.

She didn't really know _what_ to think about Graham. Was he telling the truth? How could she know? But she didn't think anyone would lie about something like that.

She sighed. There was no way of really knowing the truth, she needed to wait to suss out the realities of the situation before she made any conclusions.

The conclusion that Darcy was a prat, however, did not need to be sussed out. She knew that one already.

* * *

"Mister Collins. Do you _really_ think it would be the best idea to sit beside Miss Beaumont?" Darcy questioned curtly, when the lanky boy dragged himself into the classroom to take a seat next to the silent and unresponsive Eerin Beaumont.

Collins completely ignored him and sat down regardless.

"Hi, Eerin. I heard you're turning twenty on Saturday," he practically drooled.

"Indeed."

"Any plans?"

"Thought I might hang out with my lesbian girlfriend and seven-foot-tall body guard at the convent," she drawled. He blinked stupidly.

"You're funny," he finally decided with a ridiculous grin.

"I'm contagious. Keep away."

"Do you want to go out sometime?" he questioned hopefully.

"Uh, no, sorry," she replied with a slight wince. "I'm not looking for any romance at the moment, I'm afraid," she apologised.

"I know you like me."

"Oh, you _do_, do you? And where did you get _this_ information?" she threw back in annoyance.

"Cleo magazine. There was a quiz, and I filled it in for us. And our star signs are compatible," he added with a smug grin.

"Well it _must_ be true love," she drawled sarcastically.

"I know! Oh, I'm so glad you feel it too!" he cried gleefully.

"I was joking. Seriously, I'm not interested," she said firmly.

"But –"

"Mister Collins, allow me to share some wisdom I've acquired over the years in my experiences with the fairer sex. When they imply no, it means they're _saying_ no, which means, _no_," Darcy informed the boy coolly. Bill blinked stupidly.

"Huh?"

"She's not interested. Look somewhere else," he advised, speaking directly.

"But I know she doesn't have a boyfriend."

"And how the hell do you know that?" she questioned angrily, glaring at the boy beside her.

"Everyone knows that, Eerin. Most people just assume you're still a lesbian," someone from the back row informed her. She huffed in annoyance, and rolled her eyes.

"Greeeeeeeeeat. Well, ladies and gents, I'm straight at the moment," she declared to the whole room. Bill's eyes lit up in hope.

"And I'm sure there will be a parade in the streets of Sydney for that fact. But could we please return to the lesson?" Darcy questioned curtly.

"I'm free Saturday," Bill whispered.

"Miss Beaumont, do I have to make you sit in the corner where you can't distract any male students in this room?" Darcy drawled with a raised brow.

"That wasn't my fault! _He's_ the one that's being creepy!"

"I just bluetoothed you a picture of me. I hope you look at it a lot. At night."

Giving an angry cry of frustration, Eerin picked up her books and climbed over the rows of chairs to sit between the boy who made a comment about her being a lesbian and a young woman with blue hair.

"Please sir, continue with the lesson," she requested coolly.

Darcy was nearly frightened with the intensity of her glare, but ignored it, and began the lesson instead, requesting the rewritten essays of all his students.

At the end of the session, students immediately packed up their books and laptops and moved to leave the classroom. The rabble was broken with Darcy's voice.

"Miss Beaumont, Mister Collins, a word, please," he requested calmly. Sighing in frustration, but knowing it was almost certain to happen, Eerin turned and walked up to his desk with a scowl on her face. She refused to meet his eyes. "Now. Do we have a problem, Mister Collins? Miss Beaumont?" he questioned coolly.

"No, Professor Darcy," she replied curtly, crossing her arms and not meeting his eyes.

"Umm, no, sir," Bill stammered.

"If the two of you have personal issues, I would advise you sort them out when you're not in a classroom. I refuse to allow you to disrupt my lessons again. Do you understand?"

"I don't have any issues, personal or otherwise concerning Mister Collins. If there's a problem, it's with him, sir," she answered, her tone clipped.

"Cleo Magazine said the road to our love would be paved with troubles, but the rewards would far supersede them," Bill recited diligently.

"The only reward you're looking forward to is a restraining order, Collins," she snapped.

"I forgive you, Eerin, dear."

"Oh, this'll be good. What _for_, Bill?" she retorted sarcastically.

"For not inviting me to your party. I guess you were just nervous. But of course I'll come," he assured her. Her eyes widened suddenly.

"How did you know about my party?" she asked with as much control as she could muster.

"Oh, you dropped your moleskiene when you changed seats," he shrugged, holding up the brown leather pocket book. Before she could snatch it away, Darcy took it from Bill's hands.

"Mister Collins, you're going a few steps too far. This is personal property belonging to Miss Beaumont, and thus what you did was illegal. If she wanted to you attend her party, she'd invite you. Now do I have to contact the police department, or will you agree to erase any information you might have taken from this book and leave Miss Beaumont alone?" he questioned coolly, but his tone radiated anger.

"I'm very sorry, Professor Darcy, but I don't think this is your place. Eerin and my relationship is a private matter," Bill returned stiffly.

"My best friend has four brothers, all over six feet tall. They all work out five days a week. Do you _really_ want to keep pushing it, Collins?" Eerin snapped, practically gritting her teeth in anger.

"Mister Collins. Eerin doesn't like you. She doesn't want to date you. Any relationship exists only in your imagination. Do you understand?" Darcy informed the boy calmly.

"I don't have to listen to this, Professor Darcy! You're full of _lies_!" Bill practically roared, storming out of the classroom. Darcy passed Eerin her pocket book.

"I wouldn't be worried. His kind a relatively harmless," he assured her.

"Easy for you to say. Did he try to grope _you_ in the middle of a class? Did he steal _your_ day planner and take details from it? Did he Bluetooth pictures to _your_ mobile?" she snapped angrily.

"Well you should be a little more careful with the company you keep."

"You _know_ I didn't ask for him to do this! You _know_ I've only ever seen this guy in class! It's hardly _my _fault!" she objected furiously.

Darcy lowered his eyes, feeling petty and horrible. His jealousy was causing him to act stupidly, it filled him with anger and childishness. He _did_ know that it wasn't her fault, but it was his anger speaking, not him.

"I know. I apologise. Just... ignore him. When he realises that you won't pay attention to him he'll move on. Young boys are like that," he shrugged finally.

"Whatever. I have to go. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you right now, insulting me whenever you have an opportunity, but I can't put up with anymore shit today," she muttered bitterly, quickly departing the classroom.

Darcy groaned and slammed his head against the board. Why was he being so _stupid_? She was clearly upset by the cretin, and all he did was make it worse!

He was letting his rage and jealousy take over his rationality. He needed to calm himself and ignore Eerin Beaumont; it was the only thing he could do to return his life to normal. He _would_ control whatever hold she had over him!

**A/N: Well, I was up all night partying. No, really! I had my year twelve formal (which is the equivalent of prom in America, I believe) last night and enjoyed myself profusely. My significant other and I went very 'Great Gatsby', which seemed cool until we were outshined by the Steam Punk couple... No, it wasn't a fancy dress theme; I just go to a weird school, where people wear flapper dresses, top hats and neo-Victorian ballgowns for fun. Anyway, I would have uploaded this morning but I was asleep, so here it is now :D**


	9. Of Collins and Cartier

"_Why've you forsaken me, where do you hide?_

_I feel the betrayal, simmers it blisters,_

_It digs down and burrows, deeper inside, more than a try,_

_I cannot deny that it, it feels like love,"_

-Darren Hayes, 'Step into the Light'

"Hannah, you are _not_ giving me a massage," Eerin insisted firmly. Hannah laughed, her hazel eyes twinkling before she flipped a layer of honey-blonde hair over her tanned shoulder.

"Come on. I know you freak out about them, but it'll be good, I _swear_," she insisted.

"Nup. See that big bubbly spa bath? And all those pretty smelly bottles sitting by it? That's where I'm headed, and then you're doing my hair and makeup. _No massage_," she decided firmly. Hannah sighed.

"You prude. You let Brooke give you one," she teased.

"I did _not_, she crept up behind me and tried to knock me out with my pressure points. She's _crazy_," Eerin replied with a scowl. Hannah rolled her eyes.

"So what, she makes epic honey chicken. Now are you serious about not getting a massage? It'll really loosen you up for tonight. You might even get lucky," she winked.

"Go do Carmen and Jan. If I've run away by the time you get back, you'll know my decision," Eerin returned, stepping over towards the large spa bath that took up nearly the entire room. She, Jan and Carmen had spent the past three hours at Fiona's spa, relishing the free facials, waxes and mud baths that came with being the children of the boss. Leena, Kylie and Fiona had been there since opening, and even Maiya was turning up, but only because it was the only place in the centre that agreed to dye her hair such ridiculous shades.

"Oh _fine_. But if I were going tonight, I'd totally insist on it in the car," she reminded her 'friend'.

"Hey, you turned the invite down, Missy. Too late now," Eerin laughed, removing her robe and slipping into the water with a sigh. "Hmm. Pure happiness," she declared, swimming over in the incredibly deep tub to the side, selecting her usual scents.

"Oh, let me guess, wild strawberries and lilies. Like you'd ever wear anything else," she scoffed.

"Of course not. Now hurry up, Jan and Carmen are probably waiting," she reminded her. Hannah rolled her eyes once more.

"One day, Beaumont, I'll break you. You'll be on your stomach and covered in oil sooner than you think," she warned.

"Hmm. Sounds dirty. Shame I don't swing that way anymore," Eerin laughed.

"If that's what it takes to get you on the table –"

"Go, Hannah, seriously, you're starting to scare me."

"Lies. Alright, half an hour and I'll be ready to get started on your makeup. Be prepared," Hannah warned. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"I shall. Now run away, it's going to take me half a day for my skin to stop stinging. _Why_ did I agree to the wax?" she groaned miserably.

"Because you love me. Now just relax, what CD did you want on? We got some really peaceful whale songs, interested?" she enquired.

"Bright Eyes."

"You freak. You're supposed to relax," she scoffed with distaste. Eerin grinned.

"Bright Eyes," she repeated firmly. Hannah sighed, before finally leaving Eerin in peace.

So far it had been a very good twentieth birthday. She'd woken up to see Jannali and Carmen sitting on the end of her bed, Boost smoothies in hand, banana bread baking in the oven of her small, dingy kitchen. Gifts were bestowed (clothes, makeup and lingerie from Carmen, books, music and DVDs from Jan) and enjoyed before they went into the main house to reveal more presents.

Her mother had done the same as Carmen and bought things like clothes and makeup for her daughter, Leena and Kylie pitched in for a pair of impossible heels and Maiya got her a ticket to _Muse_, who were touring, but only for the reason that she had no one else to go with. Her father of course bought her books, but something else a little more special.

"You're giving me the Echo?" she practically screamed.

"Well we don't use it anymore, not since Fiona bought that ridiculous sporty thing to promote the business, and there's not a chance in _hell_ I'm letting your little sisters have their own car. We might still need it from time to time, so it's not officially yours, but you can pay for rego and insurance," he shrugged, passing over the keys to the little blue Toyota.

"Oh my God. Do you realise how much I love you right now?" she questioned breathlessly.

"Enough not to notice that I read all the books I bought you?"

"Huh. I did see that, but I'm willing to overlook it. _Thank you_, Dad," she practically squealed, pulling her father into a tight hug. He chuckled.

"Well, you can buy me a helicopter for my next birthday. Now I'm going down to the shed, I'll see you –"

"Next month?"

"- at the party. If I can remember to attend," he replied with a wave of his hand. "Happy eighteenth –"

"- twentieth."

"Yes. That."

"Love you too, Dad," she sniggered, allowing her father to go back down to his domain before he made a complete idiot of himself.

Eerin laughed at the memory. But having her own car would make things a _lot_ easier for her, and it meant the money she'd been saving could go to something else. But _what_?

She was torn between using the money for travel or to put a deposit on her own place in the city. Sighing, she relaxed against the wall of the tub, hot, high pressured jets of water shooting up her back. She'd talk to someone about it, she decided. Jan, perhaps. Not Car, who would suggest she go out and buy a designer label wardrobe and nothing else, or maybe even Chase. He seemed pretty handy with his money.

As she dove beneath the water, she allowed her mind to stray to other subjects. She still couldn't forget the horrible way in which Darcy had treated her during class – on _two_ occasions! Not to mention what he'd said about her family when he thought she didn't hear. She was filled with anger and resentment; he was so rude and petty.

She watched her dark hair swirl around her, flicking off the last remnants of her shampoo. He confused her. She really didn't know what to think, he was incredibly intelligent, he had a wicked sense of humour and great deals of taste, but he was also rude, arrogant and vain. She just didn't know if she could trust Graham's assessment of him. Why would someone she'd barely met tell her such personal details about his life?

She broke the surface of the water when she could no longer hold her breath, dark hair pasting to her face, shoulders and back.

"Good. Thought you were stuck in the plug or something," Hannah commented, peering down at her 'friend' from the edge of the spa. "Get out, we've got to get you ready," she commanded, before turning heel to the hair and makeup salon.

Eerin wiped her face and slipped into her bathrobe, rubbing down her dripping limbs with a towel. Decided to put aside all thoughts of Darcy and Graham for a few hours, she wrapped her hair up in the towel and followed Hannah.

* * *

"I think I'm old," Eerin frowned from the backseat of Carmen's silver VW bug.

"Hey, we're both way older than you. Don't start talking like that," Carmen warned. Eerin rolled her dark eyes.

"Seriously. I'm _twenty_. I'm a grown up. I'm no longer a teenager. I'm going to _die_ soon," she cried dramatically. Jannali laughed.

"You're not serious, are you?" she questioned with another giggle.

"Well, _no_, but I thought it would be nice to be dramatic about something other than my scanty excuse for a dress," she replied sheepishly.

"My God, shut up about the dress! You look _hot_ for the first time in your life, Rin!"

"Hey, if I were five foot ten and leggy I might have been able to pull this off, but I'm short and don't have enough leg to be leggy," she objected.

"You _are_ leggy, even though you're a short-arse," Carmen insisted firmly. "Besides, it's _not _scanty, little black dresses are never scanty," she reminded her. Eerin nervously smoothed the black silk of her dress. "I hate you. Somehow you manage to look sweet and innocent, even with the smokiest eyes and the sexiest dress known to man. Why have you not been tainted by the perils of this world?" she demanded with frustration.

"You look beautiful, Rinny. You're going to knock Graham dead," Jan insisted.

"Thanks for the purse, by the way. It's gorgeous," she assured her sister, who had bought her a little silk black Dolche and Gabbana bag with gold ties to slip around the wrist so she didn't have to worry about leaving her bag anywhere.

"I'm just lucky it goes so well with that dress! You look incredibly, really," she assured her firmly. Eerin sighed. She was nervous, she really wanted to see Graham, but she didn't know how to act.

She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't even realise when they arrived at the harbour. It was a beautiful night for a party, not a cloud in the sky and a full moon to boot.

"Oh look! I can see _The Netherfield_!" Jannali cried when they slipped out of the car.

"Looks like the party is already in full swing. I just hope your family haven't arrived yet," Carmen sniggered, locking the car and swinging her purse over her shoulder.

"As if, they'd never arrive within half an hour of the party's beginning. It's not fashionable to be punctual," Eerin muttered, wishing she could believe her own words.

"Girls! Wow, you look _fantastic!_" Chase cried eagerly, meeting them on the wharf. He looked very cheerful and handsome as always, kissing Jan on the lips, before going for the cheeks of Carmen and Eerin. "Come on then, a lot of people have arrived already, but mostly Carol's friends. Sorry about that, she invited a few of her own guests. I don't even know how she made friends in Sydney," he apologised, taking Jan and Carmen's arms. Eerin followed behind, staring at the yacht in wonder. It was lit up like the starry sky, the lights reflected over the surface of the dark water. It was magical.

The moment she stepped onboard, she was greeted with a semi-tipsy cry of '_happy birthday_!' from everyone assembled, half of the individuals she was quite sure she'd never met before. She laughed and smiled politely, ignoring the wolf-whistles and following Chase onto the main deck, before she was instantly surrounded by friends wishing her a happy birthday.

Her eyes scanned the crowds for the familiar face of Graham, but she couldn't find him, and was busy being showered with presents from her friends.

"Wow. Sean, you really shouldn't have," she laughed, opening up a self-help book about 'learning to love yourself'. Sean, a friend of hers from classes at the university, laughed and ran a hand through his messy brown hair.

"Yeah, I know. The gift card for JB HI-FI is inside," he informed her. She laughed.

"Much better, but I love it all the same," she assured him, leaning forwards for a hug.

"You'll crush the scarf I got her, Sean! Be careful!" Cassie, one of the girls Eerin used to work with, cried immediately.

"Sorry Cass, but it's a bit warm for a scarf, isn't it?" he commented with a grin. Cassie rolled her eyes.

"Shut up. Actually, I got told by Jan's hot boyfriend to tell you that you should just put all your presents in the room you were staying in before. Do you want me to help you?" she questioned eagerly.

"Uh, sure. You grab that pile," Eerin laughed, picking up boxes of perfume, bags of clothes and accessories, and piles of books, and taking them down to the bedroom she had stayed in not that long ago.

"You sure pulled in well this year. I think everyone was really careful to get you nice stuff, considering this is on a yacht and everything," Cassie commented, dumping the last of the gifts atop the bed.

"Maybe I should do that every year," Eerin laughed. "Oh, and by the way, have you seen a guy called Graham? He's reasonably tall, gelled brown hair, a bit of a beard, really cute. And he's a Brit," she questioned. Cassie was not only a terrible gossip, but she was an awful flirt, guaranteeing that if anyone would have seen the handsome Graham Wickham, it would be her.

"Well I heard something about _someone_ not coming, actually. That bitchy Bingley girl was complaining that he turned down the invite she sent him on your behalf. She thought it was really rude. And the only excuse he gave was that he didn't like the 'company' that would be in attendance," she informed her, eyes sparkling at the scandal.

"Well, maybe it wasn't him," Eerin shrugged hopefully.

"Oooh, do you _like_ him?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I just hoped he'd be here," she muttered in disappointment.

"Aw, sucks to be you. Come on, maybe there are some more presents you'd be willing to share with me upstairs!" Cassie declared eagerly, grabbing her college by the wrist and practically pulling her back to the deck.

"Why don't you go flirt with something for a while, Cass. I have some people I want to greet," Eerin suggested. Cassie rolled her eyes, but gladly skipped away to the nearest single man.

She sighed, trying not to feel too miserable. It probably _was_ Graham that didn't turn up, and she knew why. Because of bloody Darcy. That man infuriated her.

"If it's your party, shouldn't you be socialising at least a little?" she heard a dry baritone question from behind her. Eerin resisted the urge to groan.

_Think of the devil..._

"It's my party and I'll be anti-social if I want to," she reasoned snappishly, turning slightly to regard him, instantly wishing she hadn't.

He looked _hot_. He wore instead of his usual blacks a grey linen three-piece suit, which made him look twice as handsome as ever, particularly as he hadn't shaved, and had actually brushed his hair to the side, so it didn't constantly fall into his eyes. Without their usual dark brown curtain, the intensity of his emerald eyes was greatly increased, and she struck with how handsome he really was. It was nearly _unfair_.

"Fair argument. Happy Birthday," he replied finally, reaching out to hand her a slender red box with _Cartier_ written in gold across the surface. Her eyes widened slightly.

"Oh my God. You got me something from _Cartier_?" she exclaimed.

"Tiffanies would involve me walking another few feet."

"You're my teacher. Teachers aren't supposed to get their students gifts," she reminded him with a raised brow.

"Take the damn box, my arm is getting tired and Ana only wears yellow gold," he commanded. Hesitatingly, she accepted the box, and opened it with awe.

In it lay the most gorgeous rose-gold chain she had ever seen. It was long, slender, and had some sort of minute art-nouveau pattern.

"You can wear it as a necklace, bracelet, anklet, however you desire. Your choice," he shrugged, gently taking the box from her, and removing the chain. She wordlessly turned, and he wound it around her neck, before clasping it shut. Her fingers rose to it, it felt cool against her skin and the end slipped down the front of her dress. She turned back to face him.

"Thank you. It's... it's really beautiful," she murmured. He nodded somewhat stiffly.

"I wasn't sure if you preferred gold or silver, but I knew you favoured bronze. The rose struck me as being... you," he shrugged sheepishly.

"No, I really love rose gold. It's beautiful, thank you," she replied.

"You already said that," he reminded her.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Uhhh, I'm still pissed at you, but this is really nice," she added. He nodded in understanding.

"I was... probably out of the bounds of propriety in the way that I dealt with the issue," he admitted slowly. She scoffed.

"I guess if that's an apology, I accept it," she muttered, before lowering her eyes. "Umm, are you enjoying yourself so far?" she questioned with slight hesitation.

"The harbour is very beautiful at this time of the year," was all he said.

"Oh, okay."

"You'd best go, it seems as if you're being looked for," he advised. She glanced over her shoulder, where several of her friends were urging her over.

"Right. I guess I'll see you later," she muttered. "And thanks again for the chain, it's really nice," she added finally. He merely nodded before she rejoined the rest of the party, who were all eager to comment on her new piece of jewellery.

She glanced over her shoulder to see her teacher leaning against the railings in solitude, staring out over the dark waves. He looked... different. For a moment, it was almost as if –

"Hey Rin, Mum and Dad are here, they're the last to arrive. We'll be setting off when they get on," Jan informed her sister, tugging lightly on her arm. "Wow! What a pretty necklace!" she cried suddenly, spying the rose gold chain around her sister's neck, fingering with awe. "Wow. Who gave that to you?"

"No one. I'll tell you later," she muttered quietly, taking in a deep breath. "Alright. I think I'm going to be able to do this," she said with conviction, watching as her parents and sisters started up the wharf, chatting away as loudly as they could.

"Oh, Eerin! Jannali! _There_ you are, all dressed up! Jannali, you look _beautiful_," Fiona gushed, embracing her daughter lovingly, taking in Jan's beautiful champagne coloured gown. "Eerin, that's a nice dress. Did your sister pick it?" she questioned, turning to her other daughter.

"Carmen, actually," Eerin replied with a slight frown. Fiona muttered something that sounded like '_of course_' beneath her breath.

"Oh my God. Are you holding a Cartier case?" she questioned loudly, before spying the chain around her daughter's neck. "Oh my _God_! That's _gorgeous_!" she cried, greedy fingers reaching for it and running the gold chain through her fingers. "This is _real_ quality. Must have cost a fortune. Oh, you have such good friends!" she squealed. Eerin's cheeks blushed intensely as those around her glanced over to see her mother's embarrassing display.

"Mum, people are looking," she hissed.

"Be quiet. Twenty years old, you should have learnt some respect," she snapped. Eerin sighed.

"Why don't you and the girls go put your coats down and have something to drink, Mum?" she suggested patiently.

"The girls are fine. Where's your father got to? Good _Lord_, I can't take that man anywhere," she muttered with a sigh, before wheeling around in search of her husband. Eerin glanced over to see Leena and Kylie already digging into the alcoholic drinks, and Maiya was sitting moodily in the corner wearing full-gothic garb and a scowl on her face.

"This isn't going to work out, is it," she sighed, mostly to herself.

"I doubt it, if I know your family well enough," came a familiar, playful voice.

"_Hamish_!" she squealed excitedly, wheeling round and immediately jumping into the man's arms with a happy laugh. He chuckled and swung her around playfully, before depositing her on the ground, and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hullo darling, did you miss me?" he questioned with a charming grin.

"You _bastard_! You said you wouldn't be flying in early enough to come!" she cried, doing her best attempt at scowling when she was inwardly so happy. Hamish laughed, his warm green eyes sparkling with amusement and mischief.

"Well Jan called me and told me about the party, and she said I should round up Kerry, Marshall and Paul and bring our instruments. We're going to play a little later, and _you_ are going to sing for us," he informed her with a broad grin.

"No way. I haven't been practising since you _left me_ for the wonders of Ireland," she scolded. He gave another laugh.

"You know I would have preferred to stay here, kiddo," he replied with a slightly pained smile.

"How was the funeral?" she asked gently. He sighed.

"Hard. But it was very beautiful, the whole family turned up, no arguments, but a lot of tears," he answered with a small shrug. She gave him a quick, consoling hug.

"It'll get easier, you know. At least there's no more pain," she reminded him. He grimaced.

"Yep. That's what they say. I'll be fine," he assured her, before taking a deep breath and managing a slightly more sincere smile. "Well anyway, I'm back now, so start warming up. We're doing the usual party set, every second an original, okay?" he informed her. She rolled her eyes, smiled, and nodded.

"Alright, fine. But make it some sort of karaoke thing, that always goes down well, and there's a few people I'd love to see perform _Funky Town_," she decided.

"Sure thing, love. Anyway, me and the other guys pitched in for your present, but you have to wait 'til tomorrow to get it. Think you could handle that?" he questioned.

"Definitely. I've been loaded with presents already."

"I saw. Is this new?" he asked, pointing to the chain around her neck.

"Oh, yeah. Professor Darcy got it for me," she shrugged.

"Darcy? As in that historian you've been obsessed with since you were fourteen?" he questioned with a raised brow. She rolled her eyes.

"_No_, but yes. He's teaching one of my classes and his Jan's boyfriend's friend, so we see each other out of class a bit," she explained.

"Well, the Professor has incredible taste. That _really_ suits you. It's almost as if it were made for you," he commented appreciatively.

"Really? Well, as much as I hate to admit it, it's really beautiful. I love it," she sighed, clutching onto her band member's arm as the yacht gave a lurch before the motor kicked in and they headed out into the harbour. "Sorry," she laughed, steadying herself.

"That's cool, just don't fall overboard, I'm not interested in losing another lady at the moment," he reminded her. She grinned, and nodded.

"Stop touching her!" came a sudden, angry screech from behind them. Eerin turned in complete dread to see the red-faced form of Bill Collins standing right behind her, dirt-brown eyes flashing furiously.

"What?"

"I _said_, stop touching her! She's not _your_ girlfriend!" Bill shrieked.

"Eerin, do you know this guy?" Hamish questioned quietly.

"He's my stalker, some weird freak who thinks I love him," she snapped, glaring at Bill. "Get off the boat now, I _told_ you not to come, you weren't invited!" she snapped.

"Rin, he can't get off the boat, we're fifty metres off the harbour," Hamish reminded his friend, who growled in anger.

"I'm calling the police, he's getting off this boat and I'm getting a restraining order," she decided.

"But darling, I came because I knew you were too shy to invite me," Bill attempted to soothe her, stepping forwards.

"Hey, mate, she's clearly not into you. I'd just leave it," Hamish said calmly.

"I'm sick of people telling me she doesn't like me! It's not _true_!" Bill practically shrieked. By this point everyone on the boat had turned to stare at him.

"It _is_ true, Collins. I don't like you. I don't even _know_ you. So I'll say it again, I'm _NOT_ interested!" she hissed angrily.

"Don't _lie_! Why do you always _lie_ to me, Eerin?"

"Mister Collins. I thought we'd addressed this situation in class on Thursday. Did you have something else to add?" came a cool question from behind, which tore through the excited whispers of those around. Bill turned with annoyance, glaring up at his Professor.

"There's no _situation_, the only _situation_ is that this _guy_ has his hands all over _my_ girlfriend!" he protested, his voice rising to an angry sort of wail.

"I'm not your girlfriend! We've met twice, you creep!" Eerin snapped, very aware that everyone was staring.

"Mister Collins, the boat is already being turned around in the direction of the harbour. Now, do I have to call the police in order to assist you off, or will you go quietly, and agree not to approach Miss Beaumont again?" he questioned calmly.

"You'll never take me alive!"

"I don't want to have to throw you off the boat, you know. But I will," he warned.

"Bill, _get off the boat_. I don't want to see you ever again," Eerin snapped, just as several gentleman stepped behind her. With her three other band members, Hamish, Carmen's four brothers, Chase (who rushed in almost immediately) and Darcy; things certainly didn't seem to be in Bill's favour.

"Ten to one, Colin, was it? Not nice odds," Joseph, Carmen's oldest brother, declared coolly.

"Hey. Eleven to one," Eerin objected.

"Ten and a half."

"More like a quarter, she can slap, but she punches like a four-year-old girl," Hamish pointed out.

"_Not_ helping, Hames," she muttered angrily. Hamish only sniggered just as the boat slid into the harbour. "Bye, Bill," she snapped, one of the crew throwing the board down to the edge of the wharf for him to leave.

"Never!"

"Didn't want to do this," Joseph sighed, stepping forwards. "Sorry, mate, but we can handle it," he informed Darcy, when he also moved to assist. He was blocked by Nathaniel and Isaiah, two more of Carmen's brothers.

"Quite alright," he nodded, before the boys picked the kicking and screaming Bill Collins up and dragged him off the boat to the sound of applause from everyone else assembled.

"Eerin! Darling! Stop them!" Bill wailed pathetically, before he was deposited on the end of the wharf, and Carmen's brothers rejoined the others on the yacht. Before Bill could scrabble up, the board was pulled away and the boat was pulling out of the harbour once more.

"Are you alright?" Darcy questioned Eerin quietly, lightly placing a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, not even noticing the contact at first.

"Yeah, fine. I just... I didn't know he was so –" she glanced up to meet his intense green eyes, "– so serious," she practically stammered.

"Nor did I. It'll take a little while, but I should be able to get him transferred to another tutorial class," he assured her. She nodded.

"That'd be good. Uh, this is Hamish, by the way," she introduced, gesturing over to her male companion. Darcy removed his hand from her shoulder and gave a stiff nod, reluctantly accepting the boy's proffered hand.

"It's good to meet you. I've heard a lot about you, little Rinny Ninny has been obsessed with you since she was a pubescent teenager," he teased, glancing over to Eerin, who's cheeks were by this point bright red.

"You're full of it," she insisted, poking her friend in the belly. He laughed.

"She really was. She's one of those freaks that spends her spare time reading text books. All she does is sit there and blabber on about how interesting you are," he informed Darcy, white teeth flashing as he laughed at her discomfort.

"Good to know."

"Anyway, she said you teach one of her classes?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Yes, Symbology and Iconography."

"Huh. So do you pretty much sit in a circle, reading _The Da Vinci Code_?"

"There's a little more to the syllabus, but it's referenced," he shrugged stiffly, glancing around, as if bored. Hamish looked slightly offended, but hid it well.

"Uhh... so how long have you known Eerin?" he asked simply.

"Six weeks or seven weeks."

"Hmm. I've got about six or seven years on you," he laughed. Darcy nodded. "She's been in our band since she was thirteen, actually, so it'd be seven," he added, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Has it really been seven years? Seems like just yesterday we were sneaking you into pubs with fake IDs, heels and makeup," he laughed.

"And even then no one would believe me," she rolled her eyes.

"It took us _way _too long to work out that she'd get in just by saying 'she's with the band'," Hamish pointed out. "You a music man, Professor?" he questioned curiously.

"Classical and piano based, for the most part."

"Well we're more alternative. Kind of folky," he explained. "Anyway, you'll get to see for yourself, we'll be playing tonight, and little Rinny has conceded defeat and'll be joining us," he added, lazily wrapping an arm over his friend's shoulder.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy it. Excuse me," he said finally, turning away from the couple. Hamish let out a low whistle.

"A bit of a drip, isn't he," he commented.

"Only a bit?" Eerin scoffed.

"He's been looking at you quite a lot, you know," he added thoughtfully.

"Let him look, I don't care. I just want to enjoy myself tonight," she sighed. Hamish grinned.

"That's the spirit! Now, let's go get you good and drunk."

**A/N: Alright, I'm starting work on my next P&P fic, 'Red Gloves and Porcelain Dolls'. I had a summary up for this a while ago, when I was still writing 'Sweet Lolita', but I've really extended upon the idea now, so this is a brief sort of explanation:**

**RED GLOVES & PORCELAIN DOLLS: ****Fitzwilliam was seven when he first found the mysterious doll in the dusty Pemberley attics. Elizabeth was perfect, with white skin, pink cheeks, red lips and chocolate curls. He loved her instantly, and cherished her with all his heart. But attached to her was a dark secret that the Darcys have been struggling to forget for fifty years. Years after his precious Elizabeth was destroyed by his grief-struck father, Fitzwilliam meets her again, only this time, she's not made of porcelain, and she's certainly not so fragile. In his attempt to understand the mysterious past that their families share and reveal the secret of Elizabeth Bennett, both the doll and the woman, Fitzwilliam uncovers a story of passion, betrayal and sacrifice for two lovers who are hopefully, to be given a second chance. As long as he doesn't screw it up, that is. **

**Sounds silly, but I'm hoping to start posting it soon. I'm also working on my first proper regency fic, 'Possession', but I have other fics and a book I want to get published soon to work on, so no promises on when they're going to be posted.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review!**

**-Evie**


	10. Of Dreams and Dances

"_Now I don't hardly know her, but I think I could love her,_

_Crimson and clover..._

_Well if she come walking over, now I been waiting to show her,_

_Crimson and clover, over and over,_"

-Tommy James & The Shondells, 'Crimson and Clover'

Darcy felt his heart stop when she walked onto the deck.

Literally, it actually _stopped_ for a moment, before kicking back in again, painfully beating against his ribs. He felt his mouth go dry, his palms damp and he took off his tie, stuffing it into his pocket. There was no chance in _hell_ he'd be able to breathe with it on, not when she was wearing _that dress_.

There were a few items from her wardrobe that had been plaguing his dreams for the past few weeks. There was _that blouse_, the one she wore when she was accosted by Collins, the bikini she wore on the first day of their boat trip, her well-fitting waist-high jeans, and now, _that dress_.

It had a low back, one shoulder, and the front came low but was cut to make it look like she didn't have much of a chest, the hemline not leaving much of her milky thighs to the imagination. The dress was saved from too much simplicity by a heavy jewelled belt and her tall black wedge heels, which gave her legs a magnificent line and made her look tall, even though she most certainly wasn't. Her long hair was flowing down to her waist with her fringe plaited, but her curls were pushed over her shoulders, meaning none of her gorgeous back was disfigured. He just wanted to run his hand down that skin and draw her close to his form, leaning in to catch her lips for a sweet and tender –

He stopped himself before he got too far. He knew he shouldn't be thinking of her that way. He stayed on the side of the boat, near the railings, making sure he was out of sight from her, but he could still keep an eye out. She disappeared with some bleach blonde girl below deck before appearing a few minutes later. Controlling his now heavy breathing, he stepped forwards.

She turned when he spoke, regarding him with her usual saucy expressions. She was grateful to accept the gift, and her eyes widened with awe. He delighted in putting it on her, his voice soft and gentle, the back of his hand _just_ sweeping over her shoulder; he felt his skin burn with the contact.

He was right. It suited her _incredibly_ well, it was absolutely perfect. He allowed himself a small smile; he had good taste when it came to Eerin Beaumont. She blinked and thanked him demurely, somehow looking sweet and innocent behind her layers of dark and sexy makeup.

"Thank you. It's... it's really beautiful," she murmured to him. He felt himself nod, before throwing out something about how the colour suited her. "No, I really love rose gold. It's beautiful, thank you," she assured him. He inwardly chuckled.

"You already said that."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Uhhh, I'm still pissed at you, but this is really nice," she added.

He nodded. He completely understood, but it still pained him. He wanted things to be well between them, but perhaps too much had passed for that to be possible. He managed to get out something resembling an apology for the way he dealt with Collins, and she responded with a feeble excuse for his behaviour.

"Umm, are you enjoying yourself so far?" she questioned nervously. He paused before replying with something vague. "Uh, okay," she murmured quietly.

"You'd best go, it seems as if you're being looked for," he advised, instantly wishing he'd never suggested it. He just wanted to talk to her, to hold her... He wondered how easy it would be to take her in his arms. He had to force himself to resist the temptation when she turned to look over her shoulder, some young woman waving her to come over.

"Right. I guess I'll see you later," she said simply, before walking up the steps, back to the rest of the party.

He sighed when she'd left him. It had been dangerous to give her the chain – now he'd be forever imagining the way that it slid down into the front of her dress, to a place he'd never been but would very much like to visit.

Females had always interested him, but he'd never been so very fascinated in one woman in particular. Everything about her spoke of perfection and the concept of a 'sacred feminine'. He could understand when he looked at Eerin Beaumont, why civilisations would worship women for centuries. Who could imagine anything more perfect than the curve of her slender neck? Or the graceful lines of her elegant limbs?

His breathing was hastening by that point, and his blood rushing a little further south than his brain. He commanded himself to regain some sense, before he glanced back to Eerin. She was surrounded by people once more, he recognised her ridiculous mother who was eager to compliment her eldest child, but had no smiles or sweet words for the second born. He was disgusted with the greedy way she fawned over the chain he'd given Eerin, he could practically see dollar signs flashing in her eyes while she nearly tugged it from her neck.

But soon the mother was replaced with someone else, a handsome young man about six or seven years her senior, with a mop of light brown hair, a short beard that was just too long to be stubble and pleasant green eyes. He was dressed nicely, but a pair of converse trainers peaked out from beneath the hem of his dress trousers, suggesting that he wasn't quite used to formal wear. His heart burned with jealousy as he watched the two embrace happily. Were they together?

She'd said she was single, but it looked as if she hadn't seen him for quite some time. Was he perhaps a brother? He certainly hoped so, but something in him whispered that it wasn't true. He wanted to growl with anger and protectively grab her, grunting out something cave-man in nature, perhaps banging a club on the ground before swinging her over his shoulder and retreating below deck to one of the vacant bedrooms.

So he waited, hanging around the sidelines, staring out into the ocean, before he heard a familiar sort of girlish squeal, and turned to see none other than the red-faced Bill Collins whining and screeching like some sort of injured rodent. He grabbed a crew member instantly and instructed him to turn the ship back to the wharf, before stepping in, furious that the boy didn't seem to get the message, but somewhat impressed with his guts.

By the time he was off the yacht and people had calmed themselves, he found himself being introduced to 'Hamish', the handsome young chap who seemed very pleasant and very... perfect for Eerin. He knew he was being rude when he excused himself, but he couldn't bring himself to stand there any longer, not with the way that boy was looking at _his_ Eerin.

"Let me guess what you're thinking," came an annoyingly familiar voice from behind.

"Carol. You seem to be handling the boat well enough," he drawled, wishing it wasn't so.

"Pills can be wonderful things, Darcy," she replied simply, with a broad smile. "Now. I bet you're wondering how you were cornered into this, and why you have to put up with these backwater freaks drool over Chase's nice clean yacht," she stated firmly.

"No, Carol, I'm contemplating throwing Miss Beaumont up against the nearest wall and running my tongue between her breasts. Close, but not quite there," he snapped, relishing the shocked look on Carol's face as the words slipped out of his mouth.

"Hmm. It's probably all the little hussy would be good for," she muttered furiously, when she had overcome her surprise. "Well when you've finished rutting with the child, I hope you know where your _true_ place is. I can only overlook so much, Darcy," she informed him sternly. He rolled his eyes.

"But clearly my lack of interest is one of those things you've been overlooking," he retorted.

"Jokes aside, William, I think there are other things we need to discuss. The little situation with these Beaumonts being one of them," she snapped diligently. "We can't allow Chase to continue this little fling with Jannali. I like the dear, but she's not suitable. Father needs him to come home and start learning the ropes of the company back in England, but with his little concubine here he sees no reason to leave," she began curtly. Darcy glanced over to Mrs Beaumont, only to see her throwing down glasses of champagne like they were water, whilst blabbing loudly to her friends about how good a match her eldest daughter had made.

"And you know, it'll set a good example for _Eerin_. That girl is going nowhere in her life, I can tell you. She doesn't even want to get married and have a family. Can't even decide what she wants to do when she leaves university," she scoffed, her voice carrying over the entire yacht.

"He needs to know his place. And that's _away_ from these _people_," Carol interrupted, pausing his observations.

"I agree, but you need to take into account your brother's feelings. If he really cares for the girl, then I have no desire to separate them," he said calmly. Carol sighed dramatically.

"He might think the world of her, but she doesn't give a damn about him. She's been flirting with other men all night, and she's clearly a gold digger. Just listen to her mother," she insisted. Darcy sighed, rubbing his temples to attempt to regain some clarity. "You _must _have noticed something unusual about the way she behaves," she added.

"Yes, I had, but I don't feel comfortable destroying my friend's life," he snapped. Carol scoffed.

"You need to get some perspective. This can't continue. Now I'll let you return to your little chit, with any luck you'll have her on her back in no time," she drawled bitterly, storming away in a puff of Chanel No. 5.

Darcy growled in agitation. It pained him to cause any harm to his friend, but he knew it _had_ to be done. He was hoping he could put it off a little longer, but Carol would act, so he had no choice but to go along with her. His growl turned into a sigh as he leant against the railings. What choice did he have? He'd have to separate the two, nothing else could be done. It would strain his relationship with Eerin, however, but maybe that was also for the best.

He turned when he heard the unmistakable sounds of a microphone being switched on. At the bow of the boat a few instruments, amps, drums, several guitars and a keyboard piano had all been set up, along with a few microphones. He recognised a few faces from the crowd standing behind instruments, tuning and preparing themselves as the party turned to face the band.

"Hey everyone, we're _The Little Lions_ and we're going to be playing some tunes for you," introduced Hamish, the handsome boy that had been speaking to Eerin earlier. A cheer was heard from the crowd; obviously some of those assembled had heard them play before. "Some of you know us, for the others, I guess this'll be nice experience," he chuckled. "Okay, Eerin, baby, could you come up to the stage? Why don't we get this party started, hey?" he requested. Eerin laughingly stepped forwards, taking her place opposite Hamish at the keyboard.

"Hullo everyone, thanks for turning up, and for the nice prezzies," she thanked with a big smile, those assembled clapping immediately. "Okay, so this is one of my favourites, and I've demanded that we open with it because it's my birthday," she laughed, placing her hand on the neck of the guitar. "Okay, let's go," she called to the rest of the band, before bursting into song.

Darcy didn't know the song, but it was vaguely familiar to him, and seemed rather appro for the party. He was incredibly impressed the moment she opened her mouth, and even before then, with her piano playing. It was a simple song and she was being almost completely drowned out with harmonies from all band members, so he couldn't gage her skills, but she played with ease and ability. Her voice was almost timid in nature, a sort of raspy, coffee-shop little voice with impressive range. It was a _cute_ voice, not something you'd want to belt out show tunes with, but it was very pretty all the same.

"_You said 'ain't this just like the present  
To be showing up like this?'  
As a moon waned to crescent,  
We started to kiss  
And I said I know it well,  
That secret that we know  
That we don't know how to tell  
I'm in love with your honour,  
I'm in love with your kiss,"_

They were met with applause and great deals of appreciation, before they moved onto a more intimate and 'indie' song.

"This is an Eerin original, guys, so no filming and putting on youtube, thanks," Hamish requested cheekily. Eerin rolled her eyes, before beginning a piano riff.

"_I'd like a flat white, a day of pale skies,  
__And a real kiss...  
__Inside an old house, by the seaside,  
__You can take off my blouse_..."

Hamish came in next, with the bridge, revealing an impressive voice, which still had an intimate and rasping quality to it that perfectly suited Eerin's voice.

"_Babe take it from me, I'm a disorderly,  
__And you'd be off better, writing someone else  
__Your love letter, cos I'm always on the road..._"

"_But boy I want to know you better..._"

"_Well you know the way it goes,  
__A telegram is no substitute, when it comes to living proof...  
__Oh go on and write somebody else, oh somebody else,  
__Oh anybody... your love letter..."_

Darcy felt something pull at his heart as he watched her sing with such emotion. It was a beautiful song, truly, and he could understand its meaning. He could relate to that feeling. He didn't have time to contemplate before she broke into the next verse, however.

"_Well I need a flight home, no it's no day to argue,  
__No I need my pillow...  
__Well inside an old house, by the seaside,  
__You can take off my blouse..._"

"_Babe take it from me, I'm a disorderly,  
__And you'd be off better, writing someone else  
__Your love letter, cos I'm always on the road..._"

"_But boy I want to know you better..._"

"_Well you know the way it goes,  
__A telegram is no substitute, when it comes to living proof...  
__Oh go on and write somebody else, oh somebody else,  
__Oh anybody... your love letter..."_

"_Oh living in that chest is a big, big heart,  
__One I've known from the very start,"_

"_Living in that chest is a big, big heart,  
__One I've known from the very start,"_

"_Oh living in that chest is a big, big heart,  
__One I've known from the very start,"_

"_Oh living in that chest is a big, big heart,  
__One I've known from the very start...  
__Go on, write somebody else your love letter,  
__Cos I'm always on the road..."_

"_Boy I just want to know you better,  
__But I know the way it goes..."_

He found himself clapping along with those assembled as the song came to an end. It was touching and beautiful and everything that a song should be. She was... wonderful.

They played a few more songs, some of which were covers, but the rest were Hamish's originals, most of which about loving a woman. It filled him with jealousy, from the lines of the song he felt like he couldn't have the woman he felt for, was that Eerin? But why couldn't he have her? Darcy bitterly commented in his thoughts that she seemed plenty eager to bestow on him kisses and embraces. He would give everything for just _one_ of those kisses.

After a while, Eerin excused herself from the band, which went on without her, playing slower songs that those assembled could dance to. She danced with one of the large men who had taken Collins off the boat, and then with another boy, before excusing herself to the drinks table where she was chatting with her Italian friend.

Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself standing before her.

"It was a very good performance," he complimented suddenly. She turned to him, blinking in surprise.

"Oh. Thanks. The guys were great," she shrugged.

"You were great too, you know," the other girl assured her. "Hi. I'm Carmen, Eerin's friend. You're William Darcy, right?" she questioned. Darcy nodded.

"It's a pleasure," he muttered tonelessly. The girl raised a brow and hid a smirk. He supposed she knew immediately that it wasn't really a pleasure. "Eerin. Would you... care to dance?" he questioned suddenly, instantly regretting the question the moment it fell from his lips. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, and her mouth opened to reply, before she was poked in the ribs by her friend, Carmen.

"She'd _love_ to. Go on, Rinny, I'll look after your drink," Carmen urged her, practically shoving the two together before dashing over to the band, and hissing something in Hamish's ear.

"What is she doing?" Eerin muttered to herself.

"Running."

"What an astute deduction," she retorted sarcastically. He linked arms with her and moved over to where a good dozen couples were already dancing in silence, just as the song changed. "Ohhhhh. Now I know what she was doing," she muttered with a slightly annoyed sigh. "Sorry about that. She's not very subtle," she apologised, when a very slow, romantic song was begun by the band, and the bassist picked up a violin. "But they do a really good cover of this song, I have to admit," she commented honestly.

"What song is it?"

"It's called '_The Promise_' by Tracy Chapman. It's a really beautiful song," she sighed, standing before him. "Alright, I can't dance. I'm assuming you can," she declared suddenly.

"You can't dance?" he questioned with a raised brow. She rolled her dark eyes.

"I can club dance, but I doubt jumping up and down with my hands in the air would be very appropriate for this," she shrugged. He found himself smiling slightly.

"As this isn't in three-four timing, we can't do a waltz. Just... put your arms wherever they feel comfortable, and we only have to move a little. I don't want to risk my feet," he instructed. She gave a small laugh, before nodding, and moving her hands around until they felt comfortable, against the front of his shoulders. "Good. Now it's best I put mine around your waist, and all you have to do is move from side to side a little, and you're dancing," he informed her, placing his arms on the sides of her slim waist, giving her a comforting smile.

"_If you wait for me then I'll come for you,  
Although I've travelled far,  
I always hold a place for you in my heart...  
If you think of me, if you miss me once in awhile,_

_Then I'll return to you,  
I'll return and fill that space in your heart..."_

"Do you normally sing this?" he asked curiously, when he heard her hum quietly.

"Yeah. Hamish and I both sing it, but my mic is just a _little_ louder than his, and he sings an octave lower."

"Sing it for me?" he requested, thankful that his head was over her shoulder, and she couldn't see his expression.

"_Remembering, your touch, your kiss,__  
Your warm embrace...  
I'll find my way back to you, if you'll be waiting...  
If you dream of me like I dream of you,"_

Her voice was so quiet he could hardly hear, but it still sent shivers down his spine, to hear her singing those words to him.

"_In a place that's warm and dark,  
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart..._

_Remembering, your touch, your kiss,  
Your warm embrace...  
I'll find my way back to you, if you'll be waiting..._

"_I've longed for you and I have desired  
To see your face your smile  
To be with you wherever you are  
Remembering, your touch, your kiss  
Your warm embrace...  
I'll find my way back to you, if you'll be waiting..._"

He breathed in the intoxicating scent of her shampoo with a deep breath. He was enchanted. Every word she sang reminded him that he was falling deeper and deeper, and there was no longer anything he could do to stop himself.

"_I've longed for you, and I have desired,  
To see your face, your smile,  
To be with you wherever you are..._

_Remembering, your touch, your kiss,  
Your warm embrace...  
I'll find my way back to you, please say you'll be waiting..._

"_Together again, it would feel so good to be,  
In your arms, where all my journeys end,  
If you can make a promise, If it's one that you can keep, _

_I vow to come for you, if you wait for me and say you'll hold,  
A place for me in your heart..."_

She pulled away from him slightly as the song came to an end, her eyes half-closed in a sort of dazed, dreamlike expression; however, he doubted he looked any better. She was just... so _impossibly_ beautiful to him.

The moment was gone when the band began to play some ridiculous rock song, and he stepped away from her, winding out of the crowd. He picked up a flute of champagne and passed it to her, and before he knew it, they were leaning against the railings together and staring out into the starry sky.

"The stars are different back home," he commented quietly.

"I remember that, when I was in travelling. It frightened me a little," she sighed softly.

"Did you know that according to the Yakut tribes of Siberia, the stars are the windows to the universe?" he questioned, unsure of why he was speaking so quietly. She shook her head. "Their appearance, however fleeting, would grant or deny access to the 'upper world'," he added.

"I don't know much about the stars," she confessed.

"Truly? You can't be a good symbolist until you understand the stars," he warned playfully. She shrugged lightly. "There are some interesting theories concerning stars. According to the Kalevala, the stars are made out of shell fragments flung over the heavens when the world egg was cracked," he informed her factually.

"The world egg?" she giggled.

"Brings a whole new meaning to the good old 'which came first?' question," he replied almost playfully.

"What else?" she questioned curiously.

"Well... In the Aztec tribes the Milky Way was called _micvoatl_, which translates to 'cloud serpent', which is where the God Mixcoatl got his name, the God of the Pole Star and hunting," he continued. "And the idea of stars having rays shooting out from them, like you see in children's drawings?" he questioned, to which she nodded in understanding. "Myan hieroglyphics. And in Guatemala and Peru the stars are considered to represent the souls of the righteous dead, but according to Incan lore that included animals and birds, not only humans," he explained.

"Some of that sounds strange, but I guess it's no stranger than us wishing on stars," she sighed, staring up to the heavens. Darcy allowed himself to trace her features with his eyes. "I wonder why people do that. I remember waiting for the first star to come out when I was little, and that rhyme. What was it?" she muttered thoughtfully, with a slight frown. "_Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight_. That's it," she laughed. "And wishing stones, I used to love making wishes," she continued, with a dreamy expression.

"Forgive me for asking, I know this might have something to do with your heritage and you're probably not allowed to tell me, but –"

"Oh, I can tell you a little, but not a lot. And you certainly won't trick me into telling you anything I'm not supposed to," she laughed. He nodded.

"What kind of –"

"Stones. Just... one's that fit the description. But I had a penpal in Poland who sent me a bag of amber stones once, and I used those ones differently," she explained.

"And how did you use them?" he questioned curiously. She laughed, and shook her head.

"Sorry. Can't help you with anything Koori, I don't know a lot about that stuff and what I do know I'm not allowed to talk about," she explained. He nodded in understanding, but he didn't bother hiding his disappointment. "But... I can tell you about the amber," she offered thoughtfully. He nodded, eager to know more. "Well, I invented my own little ritual with the amber. I would rub them in my hands and kiss them, and whisper what I wanted to wish for. Then I just line them up on my windowsill or under my pillow. I tended to wish on everything that was important to me, even sandwiches and toys, so it's not like it's part of my culture or anything," she informed him. He nodded.

"What kind of things did you wish for?" he enquired. Eerin sighed thoughtfully, leaning forwards on the railings, images of her mother's red face as she screamed at her flashing through her head, dreams of places where things were always green and where rain was always falling.

"Just childish things, I guess," she muttered. "Ponies and bikes and toys and stuff. Anyway, thank you again for the necklace. Everyone said it suits me," she said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen when she didn't continue.

"It was no trouble. Consider it an apology for not taking Collins seriously. I didn't think he would cause a problem," he apologised. She shrugged.

"I hope he doesn't," she muttered.

"But I'm sure you'll have plenty of ardent admirers to defend your honour," he added dryly. She gave a stale laugh. Somehow there was this spark of intimacy between them as he joked about such things, as if there were a connection that made the rest of the world outsiders, and he relished it.

"I'd like to think that, but it's not the case. I tend to frighten them all away," she muttered thoughtfully, her eyes twinkling with humour.

"Of course. That's why Collins followed you onto a boat in the middle of the harbour," he teased. She blushed, and shook her head, fighting laughter.

"That _never_ happens to me, I swear!" she giggled, and he rolled his eyes.

"That's what Ana tells me when I catch boys looking at her. Insists she's completely innocent," he retorted with a brow raised in challenge. She covered her mouth to stifle laughter.

"I swear to God, I'm not a man-magnet, I'm a freak-magnet."

"So only 'freaks' find you attractive?" he retorted with a small smirk. She rolled her eyes.

"Stop it. Bully," she muttered, her eyes still twinkling with amusement.

"Alright, I'll stop," he chuckled, turning his gaze back out to the harbour. He waited a minute or two in comfortable silence before resuming conversation. "So... uh, do you spend a lot of time in the city?" he questioned, wanting to know more of the incredible young woman before him.

"Yeah. Everyone says it's terribly lonely, but I find it really easy to meet new people," she shrugged.

"Hmm. Not all of the people you meet are to be trusted, however," he muttered, Wickham's face swimming into his mind's eye.

"Maybe. I met someone who knows you the other day, actually," she commented, as if just remembering the fact.

"I know. Graham Wickham," he stated, not bothering to conceal the coldness from his voice.

"He said you used to be friends."

"_Used to_ is the operative term. However, I doubt we were every _truly_ friends. I hesitate to say 'acquaintances'," he muttered bitterly.

"He told me a few things."

"Oh, I'm sure he did."

"Are you being sarcastic?" she questioned in slight agitation. He gave an exasperated sigh.

"He's not the kind of man you want to find yourself mixed up with. I would advise you stay away," he said firmly.

"I think I'm entitled to make friends," she objected with slight petulance.

"It's very easy to make friends with Graham, but keeping that 'friendship' is a bit more difficult," he replied coolly.

"Well I like him, he was nice and friendly, despite all that's happened to him," she practically snapped.

"All that's – good lord, Eerin. What on earth has he _told_ you?" he exclaimed. "No. I don't need to hear it. All I can say is that you need to be more careful about choosing your friends," he warned.

"Well he _must_ be bereft to have lost your friendship," she muttered sarcastically. "And I can only assume, considering what you listed as your most grievous flaws, that cannot be repaired?" she questioned coolly.

"No. It can't. And if you knew the circumstances, you'd never question that," he snapped, before turning heel, and leaving her alone by the side of the yacht.

Eerin was filled with anger as she watched Darcy storm off. What was his _problem_? They'd been getting along so well only a minute before, why had he turned into the rude, pig-headed, arrogant Professor Darcy that she was so sick of seeing?

She gave a frustrated sigh and leant against the railings, allowing the wind off the water to run a gentle breeze through her dark hair. If she hated Darcy, like she thought, then why had she never felt so safe as when she was being held in his arms? Why did she feel so... so tingly and anxious at the same time?

"Come on, Rin, come back and join _your_ party!" she heard Carmen call, breaking her out of her musings. She pasted on a smile and turned to her friend, endeavouring to think about it at another time. She just wanted to go home and curl up in bed, never having to worry about it again.

It took the party another four or five hours to wind down and return to the harbour, by which time, Eerin's family had embarrassed her plenty for the evening, particularly with the karaoke that she had so foolishly suggested. She winced every time Maiya burst out another line of her miserable emo songs, and Leena and Kylie wailed to Jordin Sparks.

"I know. But at least you had a good time," Jan reminded her, upon seeing Eerin's expression as the yacht began to empty. "Listen, uh, I'm staying here with Chase on the boat. Is that okay?" she questioned. Eerin nodded.

"Sure. I was going home with Carmen, anyway," she shrugged. Jan frowned.

"Car already left, I thought you were going home with Mum and Dad," she objected. Eerin shook her head.

"Can't fit more than five people in the car. Damn. So I have to get a taxi?" she bemoaned.

"Get your things, I'll take you," came a deep baritone from behind. She turned to see Darcy with his jacket tossed over his shoulder.

"You're not driving me home. It's forty-five minutes in _really_ good traffic," she objected. He rolled his dark eyes.

"Fine. I'll drive you to your sisters," he shrugged.

"That's fine with me. You have your spare key?" Jan questioned her sister.

"Uh, yeah, but –"

"Don't worry about getting all your presents, just grab some of the smaller ones and I'll bring them to you tomorrow," she instructed.

"Was there anything you wanted to take with you in particular?" Darcy questioned, to which Eerin shook her head.

"Alright, drive safe you two, and happy birthday, Rinny, even though your birthday ended about three hours ago," Jan laughed, kissing her sister's cheek and giving her a warm hug.

"Hmm. I'm twenty. One year closer to death."

"If that's what you say when you turn twenty, I'd be interested to see how you would react when you get to my age," Darcy muttered.

"She could just turn down her hearing aid and pretend it's not her birthday, Darce," Chase replied cheerfully, stepping towards their small grouping. "So you're set to get home, Rin?" he questioned the birthday girl.

"Yeah, Professor Darcy is going to take me back to Jan's place. We'd probably best go, but _thank you so much_ for this party. It was incredible," she swore firmly, Chase laughing at her conviction and gratitude.

"It was my pleasure. Now you go home and get some rest, you look buggered," he commanded. After a brief hug, Eerin followed Darcy off the deck to the wharf in silence.

"Are you cold?"

"Nup. I'm just a _little_ bit drunk, so that's keeping me warm," she informed him factually, holding out her thumb and forefinger with an inch between them to emphasise her point.

"Good to know."

She followed him to his car in silence, before he opened the door for her and she slid into the familiar leather seats with a long, slow sigh. It wasn't until the engine started that she opened her eyes and realised he was in the car.

"Are you alright?" he questioned with slight concern.

"I'm not going to go comatose on you, I swear," she assured him, pulling on her seatbelt. She fingered the chain around her neck thoughtfully as the Sydney streets sped past her.

"Listen. About Graham," Darcy began after a few moments of silence. Eerin sighed. "I know you don't want to hear it, but he's no good, Eerin."

"Well neither am I. Maybe you should be warning him," she suggested wildly.

"He can help himself, but _you _–"

"Apparently need a babysitter. Professor, I'm twenty years old now. I know it doesn't seem like much to you, but it's given me enough experience to realise what's good for me," she snapped.

"Well if you think Graham Wickham is good for you then you clearly have a lot to learn," he retorted. "And besides. He's over ten years your senior. It's quite preposterous."

"I like older guys. It doesn't bother me, not like it's any of your business," she retorted. "Why do you care? Do you have some sort of deep-seeded need to make Graham miserable? To make _me_ miserable?" she questioned with annoyance.

"I care because –" he stopped himself, and let out a grunt of irritation. "You're my best student. You have potential, and idiots like Wickham are good at destroying potential," he said finally.

"And what even occurred to make you think Graham is an idiot?" she asked curtly. The car pulled to a sudden stop before Jan's apartment building.

"Why do you ask all these infernal questions?" he angrily demanded.

"Only to try to work you out."

"Oh, I see. And what have you discovered so far?" he drawled.

"I don't know," she admitted honestly, staring at him without reserve. "I see so many different sides to you that I don't know what to think. You're more confusing than any of the symbols and icons in the world," she replied simply.

"Well. I hope to afford you better clarity in the future," he practically spat. "But I would rather you didn't try to 'work me out' at present. I'm not who I normally am," he added coolly.

"I only have until the end of the semester. Then my chance will be gone – so I guess I can only work out who you are in this moment," she shrugged.

"Eerin, I would never deny you the pleasure."

She had no idea what was happening, but all of a sudden they were leaning into each other. His eyes lowered to her lips, and she could sense the intention there.

She pulled away, muttered something akin to a 'thanks' before climbing out of the car.

Darcy hit his fist against the steering wheel in frustration.

So close. So very, _very_ close.

If there was one thing that near-encounter told him, it was that it was getting too dangerous. He couldn't afford to sink any deeper for the girl. He sighed when he realised what exactly he was 'sinking' into.

It was no childish infatuation.

It was love, and he was too damn close to it for his own comfort.

* * *

Eerin sighed as she glanced at the bold red numbers on the clock by Jan's bed.

4:51AM

She groaned, knowing that in a little over two hours she was supposed to be waking up. She couldn't sleep, not with her mind so full of anxious questions.

Where they about to kiss? What would have happened? Did it mean that he liked her? Did it mean that _she_ liked _him_?

Her sigh turned into a frustrated groan as she rolled over. It was too hot and the bed was too big and the ceiling was too white, it was all wrong and she couldn't stand it.

In a fit of nervous energy, she jumped out of bed, wincing as she turned on the light, and immediately set out to find Jan's old acoustic guitar buried somewhere in her wardrobe. It took her half an hour to find it, another five or ten minutes to tune the damn thing, before she finally sat it on her knee with a blank notepad before her.

If he was going to be stuck in her head, she might as well take advantage and make a song out of it.

* * *

Darcy gave a tired but relieved sigh as he strode into his living room, tossing his laptop bag down on the lounge and strolling into the kitchen.

"You're the picture of domesticity, my dear," he commented with a smile, taking in the appearance of his wife as she stirred a steaming pot on the stove. She wore a sweet little summer dress that fell just above her knees, her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, a beautiful smile on her lips.

"Quiet. This requires a lot of concentration," she instructed, holding up a silencing finger, but was unable to fight a smile as he stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing an insistent kiss to her bare shoulder.

"Hmm. So you can't spare a bit of attention for your beloved?" he questioned teasingly. She laughed, lowering the setting of the stove and allowing the pot to simmer.

"You're distracting. Go sit around and be manly," she commanded teasingly. He chuckled against her neck.

"Manly? You mean I don't ooze manliness on a regular basis?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Quiet, I'm trying to be domestic."

"And you're doing a wonderful job of it, my darling, however..." he trailed off, gently spinning her into his arms, clutching her to his chest. "I can think of a few other things we could do to pass the time that didn't involve potentially dangerous culinary practises," he informed her suggestively. She smiled against his chin, before shifting her lips up to meet his lips.

"Hmm... like?"

"There's a perfectly good settee about ten footsteps away," he suggested, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"And a perfectly good bed in the next room," she added.

"Ah, but the sofa requires less walking. So, my love? Shall we?"

"What about dinner?" she questioned innocently.

"I thought we just took care of that," he replied devilishly. Eerin bit down on her bottom lip, before leaning over and turning the stove off.

"So. Was that an empty threat, or can you walk the walk as well as talk the talk?" she inquired, her dark eyes flashing in pools of the deepest green and red earth.

It took him all of three seconds to have her on her back on the lounge, halfway between giggling and gasping as he met her already swollen lips, one hand shifting to press against –

It was at that point that Darcy shot upwards in bed, the silk sheet pooling around his unclothed waist, his breathing heavy and laboured. The digital clock by his bed told him it was about ten to five, usually in an hour's time he would wake himself for a jog to the gym and a half-hour workout session before beginning his day.

He collapsed against his pillows with a heavy exhalation of breath. Why had he dreamt such a thing? Dreams of a more _passionate_ nature involving Eerin Beaumont weren't rare, but it was the first time he'd dreamt something so tame! A few kisses and the promise of more as she cooked dinner. It was almost frighteningly domestic, a hard-working husband returning home to find his beautiful wife cooking his dinner. All the perfect picture lacked was two to four adorable and obedient children and a white picket fence.

He groaned, trying to expel the image of a family life with Eerin. It wasn't right that he felt that way. Staring at the ceiling he willed himself to return to sleep.

He knew it was hopeless as he desperately tried to recall the tiny details of the dream. He knew it was wrong, but he wanted to cling to it, after all, it would be the closest he could get to Eerin Beaumont, so why should he have to give that up?

One thing was certain; he wasn't going to get much sleep that night.

**A/N: There we go, a nice long chapter because I love you all so much. The two songs played by 'The Little Lions' (I was listening to 'Little Lion Man' by Mumford & Sons when I made up the band name) were Bon Iver's 'Blood Bank' (which I absolutely **_**love**_**, but I generally love Bon Iver too) and Lisa Mitchell's 'Love Letter', which is so sweet and cute and wonderful. I picture Eerin having a voice like Lisa Mitchell. **

**Anyway, it looks like I'll be heading down to MELBOURNE next week, my lovelies! So, for anyone who lives down there, what's fun to do in Victoria? Well, Melbourne specifically, we'll hopefully be hanging around the CBD most of the time, and I'm desperate to hit Federation Square. I've done a little googling but if there's anything I should be getting really excited about, please tell me as I want to have a fun trip, although I love Melbourne anyway so I should have a good time regardless :D**


	11. Of Awkwardness and Aunts

"_She is good to me, there's nothing that she doesn't see,_

_She knows where I would like to be, it doesn't matter,_

_Cause I want you, I want you, I want you so bad,_

_Girl I want you, I want you, I want you, so bad_,"

-Bob Dylan, 'I Want You'

Things were more than a little awkward on Monday in class. Eerin silently handed Darcy their next essay, and took her usual seat without meeting his eyes. He couldn't help but stare at her in wonder – she wore a pretty white summer dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders and the chain he had given to her wrapped several times around her ankle, just like in his dream.

"The party was really great, Rin," commented a boy from the third row, leaning forwards to clap her on the back. She nearly jumped in surprise, his words startling her from her reverie.

"Oh. Thanks. And thanks for the voucher, too, I used it to buy the box set of _Sailor Moon_. Which is funny, because I know how much you despise it," she teased. The boy rolled his eyes.

"I told you to buy porn!"

"Hey, you gave the voucher to me, don't mock my purchases," she laughed. The boy gave an almost sarcastic snort and returned to his chair, somewhat perturbed by the angry glares his Professor was sending him.

The door opened with a sudden and loud bang to reveal a rather unexpected sight, Bill Collins, in the flesh, was practically storming into the room. Darcy had a sudden urge to hit himself over the head. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts of Eerin that he'd forgotten to get the boy transferred to another class.

"Collins, back row. Now," he commanded. The young man's face started to turn an angry shade of puce as he turned to him. "You're not going to sit next to Miss Beaumont. There will be no discussion. And I'm having you transferred to another class," he added firmly.

"But I like _this_ class," Collins insisted.

"When you stalk another student, you lose the right to sit next to her. When you gatecrash her private birthday celebrations, scream at her and her friends and have to be dragged off the yacht, then you instantly lose the right to be within half a mile of her," he informed him diligently.

"Professor, I don't think it's your business. Eerin and I have a very special relationship, and people like _you_ are only jealous," he snapped in defence.

"Collins, I'm saying this calmly and rationally, as I have no wish to see Miss Beaumont tear you to shreds. The combination of a quick mouth and apparently a quick slap would not suit you well," he retorted. His class chuckled.

"Well why don't you move _Eerin_!" Collins demanded angrily.

"Because I don't have a problem with Eerin," he replied, although in his mind he couldn't help but disagree – she certainly _was _a problem for his sanity. "In addition, she's the only student that didn't need to rewrite their essay – and you're the only student that didn't write it at all. If you continue to argue, I'll have you removed from this entire course," he threatened.

"Fine! _Fine_! But you can't you can't stop true love!" Collins finished pathetically, stamping out of the classroom as the rest of the students cheered.

"No, but I can stop cross-species breeding," Darcy muttered with a roll of his eyes. Unfortunately, the class heard, causing them all to erupt into peals of laughter. Even Eerin was giggling, the red flush of embarrassment that had taken over her face now turning into one of humour. "Now. I trust you've all written your next essay?" he questioned diligently, inwardly smirking as the laughter turned to awkward shuffles of the feet.

He hazarded another glance to Eerin. She instantly turned her head away from him, the flush returning with the shame of being caught staring. He wished he could find it amusing, but he was too busy being entranced about the way the light hit her and bathed her body in a warm glow.

He lowered his head as he realised the same thing he'd been dreading for the past two months.

He was so close. So _dangerously_ close to falling in love... with his student.

* * *

"And are you _quite_ sure you have nothing better than this 'Governor's Suite'?"

"Yes, Mrs du Bourg. It's our finest room, I'm sure you'll be quite happy here," the timid little hostess assured.

"And what about my daughter? Where exactly will you place my precious little Arianna?" the tall, stately woman questioned curtly.

"We could move another bed into your suite, if you wish, Mrs du Bourg," the hostess offered.

"Well you had best do that."

"And your other travelling companion? Where do you wish for Mister Fitzwilliam to stay, Mrs du Bourg?" the hostess questioned.

"Richard can organise that himself. I haven't a care in the world if he chooses to stay in the hotel. But if he does, your next best room should suffice," she finished with a wave of her hand. "Now those bags need to be taken up to my room. And I need someone to get me William Darcy on the phone," she demanded.

"The historian?" the hostess exclaimed in surprise.

"No. The dancer," she snapped sarcastically. "Of _course_ the historian. I want someone to arrange for him to meet me in the restaurant at six, by the bar. Now, someone must direct my daughter and I to our rooms," she instructed snappishly.

"Yes, Mrs du Bourg. Of course, I'll have the bellboy take you up," she muttered, lowering her head. Catherine nodded curtly, sweeping her scarf over her shoulder and ordering her obedient and snobbish daughter to follow behind.

The hostess let out a relieved sigh. The woman had only just arrived – but instantly she could see was going to be one of the difficult ones.

* * *

Darcy cursed beneath his breath as he lowered the phone.

He'd had no idea his Aunt was coming to Sydney – what possible reason could she have? Her home was in Kent, England, along with her stuffy little brat of a daughter Arianna. However, he found himself feeling vaguely optimistic to hear that Richard was in town too, he was in desperate need of his assistance regarding the lovely Miss Beaumont.

It was that thought and that thought alone that prompted him to ready himself to meet his Aunt.

A few hours later he glanced at his watch. It was a few minutes before six – he would never dare to arrive late by even a single second when his Aunt was concerned. She was a temperamental, crazy old cow who saw no reason why the entire world should not bend to her whims. He spied her at a small table by the bar, Arianna and Richard beside her with glasses of alcohol in their hands.

Catherine du Bourg was his mother's older sister. She had one daughter with her well-to-do husband Mister du Bourg, before he passed away, a stroke caused by 'stress'. After several years married to the crankiest woman in England, Darcy was surprised he'd held out so long. Arianna was a year or two older than himself, incredibly rude, incredibly snobbish, and the biggest hypochondriac ever to walk the planet. She never did anything without 'Mummy's' approval, like speaking.

Richard, on the other hand, was almost completely the opposite. He was the son of Darcy's Uncle Matlock, Catherine's brother. Matlock and his wife, Lucinda, had two children, Victor, the elder, and Richard. Victor married young and well to a woman even more ridiculous than Arianna, but she was never quite as proud as Victor. No one really could be.

Richard was probably Darcy's only relative from his mother's side that he truly got along with – and even that was strained at times. He was about two or three years older than Arianna, but a more immature man could not be found. Richard spent the majority of his time drinking, cavorting or gambling – his only saving grace was having a brilliant business sense, and was an excellent judge of when to bet, fold, or leave the country with the secretary, skills he applied to the stock markets and the poker tables with great success. But he was genuinely very intelligent, thoughtful and loyal, making him a good friend to Darcy.

"Why hullo there, cuz," Richard greeted cheerfully when Darcy approached the table.

"Finally. What took you so long?" Catherine snapped curtly as he took his seat.

"I'm five minutes early, Aunt," he pointed out. "How was your trip here?" he enquired politely.

"Terrible. It's getting to a point when you simply cannot fly – I felt like I was going into prison with all the security," she replied coolly.

"And what brings you to Sydney?" he asked, the question having been annoying him all day.

"To see my nephew, of course," she snapped, tossing the end of her Gucci scarf over her shoulder.

"Of course," Darcy muttered. She probably had some other motive, but he was yet to discover it.

"One of your students. Bill Collins. What did you do to him?" she questioned suddenly. Darcy frowned.

"I made him transfer to another tutorial class. There were problems. Why do you ask?" he demanded with great confusion.

"You idiot. His father works for me. I have to hear him complain about you all day," she snapped.

"His father?"

"He represents my interests in a number of Australian financial investments – he's worth too much for me to be rid of him. I needed to come to this God-forsaken place to straighten out the mess you caused," she snapped. "Apparently you embarrassed him in front of his girlfriend, what on _earth_ where you thinking?" she demanded angrily.

"Bill Collins doesn't have a girlfriend, Aunt, he stalks one of my students and I refused to stand for it," he replied steadily.

"Well I want to meet her."

"And how do you wish me to explain a meeting to her?" he asked steadily.

"Tell her she's being auctioned off. We'll split the profits with her," Richard suggested mindlessly. Darcy scowled at him.

"_Eerin Beaumont_ has very little to do with Bill Collins. Any relationship that exists between the two is down to Collins' imagination," he said calmly. Richard sniggered when he recognised the name. The situation suddenly made sense to him.

"Actually, Aunt, I think it could be a good idea. What's her connection to you, Darce? See her much out of school?" he questioned chirpily, before his cousin sent him a withering glare.

"She's the sister of Chase Bingley's girlfriend," he muttered finally.

"Perfect. Then invite them all over for tea, Chase, his woman, Collins, and this _Eerin_ girl. I want to know more about her," Catherine declared. Darcy sighed.

"I really don't think, Aunt, that it would –"

"And I really don't _care_ what you think. You will bring her to me on Wednesday night," she snapped.

"That's tomorrow, Aunt."

"Well then, I will see her tomorrow," she reasoned simply. "Now. We shall eat. I'm sick of talking," she declared, rising to her feet dramatically.

"Well. Looks like I don't have to wait to see your little lovely," Richard grinned to his cousin.

"Richard, I swear, if you –"

"Come, boys. I'm not waiting around for you," interrupted Catherine curtly. Darcy sighed in agitation.

"Don't touch her. Just – leave her be," he warned. Richard nodded, his eyes twinkling playfully.

"Funny. When you said 'leave her be', I heard 'leave her for _me_'. Wonder what that could mean," he mused sarcastically, before digging his hands into his pockets and following his Aunt with a smirk on his face. Darcy nearly groaned.

He was _not_ looking forwards to tomorrow night.

* * *

"As annoyed as I am that you didn't turn up to the first one, this has been a pretty good second birthday party," Eerin commented with a laugh as she and Graham left the gallery.

"I love taking girls to museums, they're free and they think I'm cultured," Graham joked with a laugh.

"Well I'm a little more difficult to impress, but you're going pretty well so far," she assured him with a playful smile and dark twinkling eyes. Taking that as encouragement, he leant forwards and took her hand in his.

"Come on then, we'll go find some place to eat," he instructed, leading them through the crowds of Circular Quey.

Eerin instantly felt a nervous surge of anxiety roll through her. Physical contact – she felt it was too soon. They'd only known each other what, two weeks? Maybe three? It was too quick for her!

The rational side of her brain urged her to keep calm during lunch, avoiding his eyes as he stuffed a thick slice of pizza into his mouth. She nibbled on her own piece, cursing herself for being afraid so early in the game. She had never been able to adjust to dating – her cycle included falling for people she couldn't have, attracting weirdos, falling for people she didn't _think_ she could have, being frightened out of her wits when they wanted her back, avoiding them, then plaguing herself with guilt for months.

But she hadn't fallen for Graham, she liked him, to be sure, but she was still uncertain. The only problem was that he was moving too quickly – she hadn't even had a chance to be self-indulgent yet.

"This has been really great, Graham. I've had a wonderful pretend birthday," she smiled, when he walked her to car.

"It doesn't have to be over quite yet, you know," he pointed out. She blushed, and lowered her eyes.

"I should really be getting home, you know," she muttered, finally finding the courage to look up.

She didn't even know how it'd happened. One moment he was there, and the next, they were kissing. Her eyes were open, and she could see the side of his jaw as his teeth brushed over her lips. She winced – it actually hurt quite a great deal, and his stubble was chaffing her delicate skin. She pulled away when she could regain her senses, suddenly feeling in a daze, in a dream, it was like she couldn't control her own actions. But she felt sick.

"Uhhh... okay, umm. I don't know. I – I don't know," she stammered weakly, stepping away from him. Graham laughed. "I just – I have no idea. I... I really – did what I think happen just happen?" she questioned, desperately praying that it hadn't, that he'd not crossed that line quite yet.

"Uh, yeah. We kissed. Are you okay with that?" he questioned, still smiling.

"I – I don't know. I have to go," she muttered weakly, turning, and attempting to jam her key into the car door, before cursing. "It's already unlocked," she reminded herself, pulling it open and sliding in.

She didn't look at Graham when she drove away.

"This is just what you do, Rin. It's your thing," Carmen explained with impatience as they sat atop the bed in Carmen's room back in Merryton Downs an hour later. "You only ever fall for people you think you can't have, and then when they fall for _you_, you freak yourself out and back off. You're terrified of loving someone – you need to learn how to let people in and actually trust them," she insisted firmly.

"Have you been watching American telly again? You're sounding like Oprah."

"Shut up. That's all there _is_ on telly. And it's true – you're incapable of trusting other people," she stated. "So you need to get over that and actually loosen up with Graham, he's hot, funny and he has an accent. Go for him," she urged emphatically.

"I _want_ to, but I don't at the same time. Suddenly all I want to do is forget he ever existed. I can't do this," Eerin muttered ashamedly.

"That's not fair to anyone."

"I _know_, and I _will_ let someone in one day, but I just don't think that Graham is worth it," she explained with exasperation. Carmen sighed.

"Rin, you're going to say that about everyone you meet. You're only close to two people in this world, maybe only me, because I _know_ you don't tell Jannali a lot of the shit you tell me," she began tiredly. "Sometimes I think you keep a lot of stuff from _me_, too. But I know you. I know that you didn't go to the funeral with Hamish because you're terrified people will see you upset, I know that you never cry in the sad movies, I know that you'd rather turn your back than give people the satisfaction of seeing you distressed... if you keep this up you're just going to be a crazy cat lady, Rin," she explained as gently as she could.

"But I'm not going to be like this forever, Car. I mean it. When I meet _the guy_ I'll let him in, but I don't think Graham is _the guy_. If he was it'd feel right, but somehow it just _doesn't_," she insisted with a weary sigh, running her hand through her dark curls.

"It doesn't feel right because you're not _letting_ it feel right, because you believe Darcy over Graham. Admit it," she challenged. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"No. I think Graham's side of the story makes more sense than Darcy's, we don't even _know_ his side. At least Graham was able to tell me that much," she assured her. "I don't think I'm one hundred percent behind Graham, but after all the shit Darcy's tried to pull off, I think Graham is the one I'd rather believe," she added firmly.

"It does make sense, I guess. Darcy's hotter than Graham, but he's _way_ more of a prick. And I think he's as emotionally stuffed-up as you," she teased. Eerin laughed.

"As if. _No one_ is," she joked sarcastically, before sighing. "I'm just so... confused, I guess. About Darcy. I mean, he's always been this God-like figure to me, and now I've had to accept that he's nothing like I thought... I don't know. This whole mess between Graham and Darcy is really making my head hurt," she muttered.

"I don't blame you. Boys are generally quite confusing," Carmen agreed. "Listen, babe. You just need to... handle it, I guess. You have to get over your anxieties and just do what you want. Consider _all_ the possibilities," she urged her friend. Sitting up and sighing, Eerin nodded.

"I guess you're right, as always."

"Even concerning fashion?"

"No. Then you're a terrible judge," she laughed. "Alright, I'll see you later. Thanks for the chat," she finished, before Carmen waved her goodbye and she left the room.

Maybe Carmen was right. Maybe it was time she _did_ let someone in.

* * *

"So, remind me again why we're going to this?" Eerin questioned stupidly as she watched her sister nervously prepare for the evening ahead.

"Because Mrs du Bourg is terribly important and has known Chase for over twenty years. It's almost like meeting his parents," Jannali answered promptly. "That's perfect. Now hurry up and do your hair, we need to go soon," she instructed, glancing at her little sister, who had just slipped into one of Jan's few designer label dresses she had bought over the years. Apparently only the finest would suit for Mrs du Bourg.

"I'm showing too much leg for this to be legal," she muttered thoughtfully, inspecting herself in the full-length mirror. She wore a simple but elegant black silk sheath dress with a layered ruffle front, it was cut scandalously short, the look intensified with a pair of black peep toed heels. The only jewellery she wore was the chain Darcy had given her, wrapped several times around her wrist. "I don't think I need to do my hair, it looks great in rollers," she commented with a grin, glancing back to a nervous Jan.

"Eerin! I don't even know why you bothered with those, your hair is already curly," she muttered breathlessly, carefully applying her makeup with precision.

"Because this was fun."

Jan rolled her eyes as he sister joined her in the bathroom, pulling out the hot rollers one by one, curls falling freely. She applied a little makeup, just some mascara, eyeliner and a bit of dark shadow, before grabbing a bold red lipstick to complete the look.

"Go grab a trench, it's chilly out tonight," Jan advised, applying a final layer of mascara to her dark lashes.

"Good plan, sis. And once more I bow to your fashion wisdom, this bag goes great with the dress," Eerin replied, ducking back into the bedroom to attach the purse Jan bought her to her wrist, before digging out a red satin trench coat.

"Grab me the cream one, would you?"

"Of course, m'dear. You look stunning, by the way," she complimented. Jan didn't have time to blush as she slid her cream trench coat on over the pale pink cocktail dress she wore.

"Thanks. We should go, we don't want to be late," she muttered, grabbing her purse and hastening out of the flat.

"So where is this place we're having dinner, anyway?"

"The Park Hyatt Hotel."

"Fuck. Jan, are you serious?" Eerin exclaimed, stopping outside her sister's flat.

"Of course I am. I wouldn't joke about that sort of stuff. Mrs du Bourg is _very_ wealthy," she replied, locking her door.

"Crap. No _wonder_ you made me borrow something of yours," she muttered as they headed to the lift.

"I'm serious about this, Rin, you have to be on your _best_ behaviour. She's a _very_ important woman, and this is a sophisticated place. No storming out in a huff of anger," she begged.

"Of course. I just can't believe it. The Park Hyatt. That's where _royalty_ stay," she muttered in disbelief. Jan nodded as they entered the lift.

"Yep. So we need to be very respectful and calm. I want to make a good impression," she insisted. Eerin gave another firm nod.

"Of course. Jan, I'd never embarrass you. Knowingly."

Jan laughed as the lift doors closed, and Eerin sent her a comforting smile.

But Jannali was right. They _did_ both need to be on their best behaviour, or else Chase and Jan would simply cease to exist.

**A/N: Alright, I won't be able to update before Saturday, as I'm going to Melbourne! Whoop! I'm literally just about to leave in the next five minutes or something, so this note is short and sweet :D I can promise the next chapter will have drunkenness, Richard-Darcy, Richard-Eerin and Eerin-Darcy banter, and some mild propositioning, not to mention a very cute, if I don't say so myself, moment between Darcy and Eerin...**

**Read and review, my lovelies, and I'll be back on Saturday!**

**-Evie**


	12. Of Drinking and Dinner

"_A shadow in the doorway, beckons me inside, _

_And something led the way, though I could not see its face, _

_And a voice from deep inside screamed at me to get out of this place,_

_In my head, someone said, that the gaoler turned the key on me,"_

-Meat Loaf, 'Don't Leave Your Mark On Me'

Richard wanted to laugh.

"It's not too stuffy, is it? I don't want her to think I'm uptight," his cousin muttered nervously, inspecting his reflection in the mirror with intense scrutiny.

"It's fine. You look great, you'll knock her right off her feet," he drawled, mindlessly flicking through the new messages on his phone. He finally allowed himself at least a small snigger when Darcy disappeared into the bathroom to run a comb through his lengthy dark hair, muttering to himself as he did. He wore a plain pair of dark trousers, a white Oxford shirt and one of his best dinner jackets.

"It's too stuffy. I'm losing this instrument of torture," he decided finally, pulling off his cravat and tossing it across the room. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and adjusted the jacket.

"Why did I agree to stay with you instead of at the nice shiny hotel? You're messing everything up," Richard commented with a scowl.

"Bollocks. We need to go or we'll be late," Darcy muttered finally, glancing at his wristwatch.

"_Excellent_! I can't take your girlishness anymore. You want to shag the woman, not marry her," Richard snapped, jumping up from atop his cousin's bed and practically leaping to the door. "I'm driving."

"No. My insurance doesn't cover lunatics."

"Lies. I'm driving," he retorted firmly, jingling Darcy's car keys. He didn't even bother questioning how he'd gotten them; he'd given up on his cousin.

One terrifying car trip later and the gentlemen were in the hotel restaurant, already being told off by Mrs du Bourg.

"Well. Are we just waiting for the ladies then?" Richard questioned chirpily, glancing around the table. Arianna, Catherine, Chase and one man he'd never met before were already seated, along with Darcy of course. "I'm assuming you're Bill Collins?" he stated.

"That's me," the red haired and faced man squealed. He reminded Richard distinctively of a guinea pig.

"Marvin Collins couldn't make it, he had a meeting. We're only waiting for the Miss Beaumonts," Catherine snapped.

"It's still ten to, Aunt. They're by no means late," Darcy defended, earning him a scowl. Richard sniggered, he _loved_ seeing his perfect little cousin scolded.

"Look, there they are now," Chase declared, standing up immediately. Darcy jumped up the moment his friend had spoken, Bill too, out of imitation, and Richard forced himself to stand and turn.

He felt his jaw drop almost instantly. He could tell from the very first moment he saw her that the brunette beauty was Darcy's 'lovely Miss Beaumont'. She had a gorgeous set of legs that never seemed to end, and slender curves that could drive a man wild. Not to mention her face; young, sweet, innocent and gorgeous, exactly his type. Screw Darcy – he wanted the brunette all to himself! But he'd settle for the stunning blonde on her arm, she came in a close second.

"Ladies. So good of you to have joined us," Catherine drawled coolly.

"Sorry if we were late, Mrs du Bourg. Traffic," Jan apologised immediately, allowing Chase to pull out her chair. Before Darcy or Bill (who was running to the target) could have a chance, Richard pulled out the brunette's chair and gave her his best charming grin. She returned it with one of her own, before looking with a rather confused expression between Darcy and Bill. A confused, wary expression.

"Hmm. I take it you are Miss Jannali Beaumont?" Catherine questioned curtly.

"I am, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you," she replied with a small bow of her head.

"And you are Miss Eerin Beaumont?" the woman questioned, turning to the brunette.

"Indeed. And as Jan said, it's a pleasure," she replied, in a sweet, but velvety voice. _God_. He _loved_ a refined Australian accent.

"I'm sure it is, for you. Now, Miss Beaumont. I understand you're very well-acquainted with Chase Bingley?" she practically drawled, the disapproval evident in her tone. The blonde nodded.

"We've been seeing each other for almost three months, Mrs du Bourg."

"Well. A lifetime, it seems," she muttered rudely. The blonde blushed, but said nothing. "Miss Eerin. Have you a beau?" she questioned then, turning to Richard's right.

"Uhh, no, Mrs du Bourg," she answered simply. Bill scoffed.

"Mrs du Bourg, she's just shy," he assured. Catherine's brow was raised in curiosity.

"Collins, I rather doubt that. She does not seem to be a shy sort of girl. You'd do well to move on – aim higher," she advised.

"Aunt," Darcy interrupted, his tone stern and disapproving. Catherine scowled at him, and the brunette nearly jumped in surprise, looking between Darcy and his Aunt in confusion.

"Quiet, boy. I'll not have you talk down to me," she snapped, before turning back to Eerin. "So. Five girls. Your parents must be disappointed," she commented with her usual charm.

The brunette looked vaguely disgusted – but that didn't surprise Richard, most people _were_ upon meeting his Aunt.

"Hardly. They don't dislike us because we lack external reproductive organs," she replied coolly. Catherine scowled in distaste, she hated cheek.

"But five girls? Are your parents catholic, or were you _all_ unintended?" she practically snapped.

"That, Mrs du Bourg, is a personal question, and an inappropriate one at that," the brunette answered simply. Catherine's scowl intensified.

"And what is it that you do, Miss Eerin, other than back chat?"

"I'm studying at the University of Sydney, and I work part-time in a spa," she replied, her dark eyes flashing with challenge.

"A spa. How quaint. And what will you be doing when you leave University?" she demanded.

"I thought I might try my luck as an _au pair_ before I settled into anything permanent. I'd like to travel before either finding a job or returning to University for a more specific degree," as her answer, followed by a shrug.

"That is, if you're not married by that time."

"I don't intend on being married by that time. If I _do_ get married, it'd be in ten to fifteen years, not in the next two," she replied curtly.

"Well with _that_ attitude, Miss Beaumont, I very much doubt you'll ever be married at all. You're very decided for someone so young," she snapped.

"There is little else I could be in this society, Mrs du Bourg. One needs to keep their wits about them," she returned with a calm smile. Catherine scowled angrily, and moved onto the blonde.

"Very impressive. Not many people can stand up to her," Richard complimented charmingly. She turned with a pretty smile.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name. I was too busy being tortured. I'm Eerin Beaumont," she introduced, holding out her hand to shake his. He instead kissed it.

"_Enchanté, mademoiselle_," he returned. She raised a brow curiously.

"Vous parlez francais, monsieur? Ou, sont vous feignent?" she questioned quizzically. Darcy hid a small smile.

"Uhhh... _oui_?" he offered weakly.

"Bravo, Richard. You just confessed to pretending to speak French," he informed him indelicately.

"Damn. Well, Richard Fitzwilliam, nephew to the Queen of Dragons over there. This is my cousin, William I-Have-A-Pole-Up-My-Arse Darcy," he replied, gesturing over to his cousin, who was by this point, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I know Professor Darcy. He teaches one of my classes," she informed him. Richard nodded, and feigned surprise.

"Really? How lovely, I had no idea. But that doesn't surprise me, he never mentions pretty girls. He's too afraid I'll steal them from under his nose," he sighed. Eerin laughed, her dark eyes twinkling.

"I'd have to be a part of his property for you to steal me, but perhaps I should take out insurance on myself, just to be sure," she replied cheekily.

"It would be advisable," Darcy muttered.

"So... why am I here?" Eerin questioned Richard in a hushed voice.

"That red-faced boy seems to think you're married or something. His father works for my Aunt, and she doesn't want to upset him. She wanted to see if anything could be done for poor Billy Collins, but at the moment I'd advise a lobotomy," he practically whispered. Eerin glanced across the table, where Collins was glaring at them with almost tangible hatred.

"That's ridiculous."

"I know. But I guess it'll be fun for you, three men at this table all clamouring for your affections," he teased.

"I doubt it'd be three," she pointed out, glancing to Darcy, who was staring at the centrepiece with determination.

"Girlie, you've got a body that won't quit; the prettiest smile in the room and eyes that could melt even my Aunt's ice-heart. He's probably just as in love with you as I am," he declared, pressing another kiss to her hand. She laughed, and pulled it away.

"Sorry, Richard, was it? I guess I'm just going to be the one that got away," she sighed teasingly.

"Damn. It's because my cousin has read a few books, isn't it? Well I can read," he insisted in his defence.

"_Playboy_ doesn't count, Richard," Darcy informed him indelicately.

"If I _were_ to choose your cousin over you, not like it's a competition or anything, I would think him having _written_ a few books rates him slightly higher on the scale," she laughed.

"Damn, Darce! You always get the girls," Richard growled petulantly. "Actually, he doesn't. We had him neutered a while ago, which pretty much killed any primal instincts the poor boy might have," he sighed tragically. "Guess you'll have to settle for me, my dear."

"Mister Fitzwilliam, as uh... flattering as your comments might be," she began with a laugh, "I think I'm a little young for you. For all I know you could be my father," she reminded him.

"Actually, I very well could be. I visited Sydney about twenty years ago. Was your mother working under the alias 'Caramel' at the time?" he questioned, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Good Lord. You're my Daddy," she exclaimed in mock horror.

"Oh shit. Well, I guess I have a lot of birthday presents to make up for," he sighed playfully. "So, Eerin. Interesting name," he commented, moving the discussion along when his cousin sent him an annoyed glance.

"My Grandmother was Koori, and traditional names have sort of stuck in my family. It means a 'little grey owl'," she informed him diligently. Richard raised a brow in surprise.

"Really? And your sisters have traditional names too?" he questioned curiously. Eerin nodded.

"Well there's Jannali, then Maiya, then Kylie and Leena. I'm the only one without an English middle name though. 'Kimba' means bushfire," she explained.

"Kimba? That's interesting. You're an interesting girl. Did you know that, Darce? That she's interesting?" he questioned his cousin with exaggerated innocence.

"If he's your cousin, why do you call him Darcy?" frowned Eerin suddenly. "I've noticed that, Professor. No one ever calls you by your name. You're always just Darcy," she commented in surprise. Darcy lowered the glass of water from his lips.

"That's true," he said simply.

"It's been that way forever, Eerin. Very few people have ever addressed him as anything but 'Darcy'," Richard explained.

"What did your parents call you?"

"Fitz."

"Why?"

"Because it's my middle name."

"Yeah, but people don't call me 'Kimba'. 'Eerin-Kimba' if I've been bad, but never _just_ Kimba."

"It's different in England. It's not that unusual," he shrugged.

"So your name is William Fitz Darcy?" she questioned with a quirked brow. Richard wanted to applaud his cousin for staying sane as long as he had around the little minx, with a single raised eyebrow she could drive anyone around the bend.

"Only on paper. To most, it's simply Darcy," he said simply.

"So family call you Darcy?" she stated blankly.

"Most. My sister addresses me as Fitz."

"And colleagues call you Darcy?" she continued, to which he nodded. "Girlfriends?"

He nearly spat out his water, giving a small cough.

"Uhhh... yes," he muttered, after clearing his through.

"That's right, Laura always called you Darcy. She tried William once, but he didn't even respond," Richard laughed.

"Is Laura your girlfriend?" the minx questioned curiously, turning back to his cousin, who was sending him very dangerous glares.

"She was," he answered shortly, his tone clipped. Eerin seemed to get the message, and let his response be.

"Yes, my cousin is quite unattached, daughter. I give you leave to attempt seduction on your uncle," Richard granted cheekily.

"I very much doubt that Miss Beaumont would ever require your permission for anything she wishes to do, Richard," Darcy commented. "She's a rather single-minded girl, and tends to do as she wants," he informed him with slight bitterness. Richard raised his brow in curiosity.

"Oh really? And tell me, child, do you argue with my cousin here? Because that's something I could picture a single-minded person doing, but as of yet, no one has been brave enough to do so," he returned, turning back to the brunette minx.

"I think we disagree on a few things. It's probably best if we didn't go into discussion of them," she replied almost coolly, lowering her dark eyes.

"You're quite right. Very improper for dinner discussions," Richard stated firmly. "So. Pull my finger."

"Can I talk to you instead?" Eerin questioned, turning to Darcy, who regarded her with the smallest of smiles.

"Of course."

"I got a really interesting book of symbols for my birthday, it was short and a little vague, but had some really interesting things in it. It was by someone called Kenner," she informed him, speaking with eagerness.

"I'm not familiar with the name. Was it post or pre Dan Brown?"

"Post, I think, but just before it became terribly popular. Although some of the dissections of his novels are fascinating. It threw up a lot of interesting opinions about Biblical study," she explained.

"That is true, but I don't condone what Brown did to the field. It was a good way to interest people, but his works either cheapen or glorify the tensions between science and the Church," he objected.

"Well that's where a lot of my research is centred, so I'm grateful for what Brown did, because it's encouraged people to publish books on the subject," she returned emphatically. "And how can you be so objective? Half the world believes Robert Langdon is based on you," she pointed out. He rolled his emerald eyes.

"Yes. I regularly enter into life-and-death situations concerning symbology. And I always end up with a new, brilliantly clever, gorgeous European woman at the end of each adventure," he said sarcastically.

"He does, actually. And they're all somehow related to a dead person standing between science and religion," Richard sighed, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table.

"Sounds like a life," Eerin laughed.

"Sounds like a Hollywood Blockbuster. _Not_ me," Darcy practically snapped.

"What are you talking about? I must have my share of the conversation," Catherine interrupted curtly.

"They're being boring and blabbering on about symbols and books, Aunt, nothing exciting," Richard waved her off. She sent Eerin a disapproving glare.

"So you approve of my nephew's fascination with old cave drawings, do you, Miss Eerin?" she questioned with a raised, over-plucked brow.

"Of course I do. Symbology is a fascinating field. And as I'm taking Professor Darcy's class, it seems obvious that I'd be interested," she replied simply.

"My word. A woman who can stand your obsessions, Fitz. Quite incredible," Catherine drawled to her nephew, who shifted in slight discomfort. "You'd best snap her up immediately, you know about young girls and their fickle tendencies," she advised.

"Mrs du Bourg!" exclaimed Collins in agitation. "Eerin is _my _–"

"Oh do be quiet, Bill. The girl has no affection for you; that much is obvious. You'd best set your sights on a different girl," she snapped. The red-faced boy lowered his eyes in abject misery, but Richard knew full well that he would listen to _her_ instructions over his own desires. Somehow Catherine had an ability to make seemingly sensible individuals do that.

Richard hazarded another glance to the brunette by his side. She was ignoring his Aunt, staring at the menu curiously. He looked over to see Darcy swallowed rather obviously, his eyes completely fixed to her, burning with more intensity than he'd ever before seen. He moved his hand to the table, and let it sit only a few inches from hers, practically trembling with desire.

Richard smiled quietly to himself. His cousin was so far gone it was amusing – the word 'love' hadn't been mentioned during their conversations, but it was becoming more and more likely as each second passed.

He resolved himself to do all he could for his cousin. He owed him that much – and at least if she became Darcy's partner, he'd have something nice to look at during family dinners.

* * *

Eerin had a sudden urge to scoop her own eyeballs out with her dessert spoon.

"And do you have any accomplishments?"

"I was Library Monitor of the year in primary school," she replied with a slight roll of her dark eyes. Catherine scowled.

"Do you play a musical instrument? Can you draw? Can you ride?" she demanded.

"Yes, no, and I'm absolutely terrified of horses," she replied in quick succession. Catherine raised a brow in surprise.

She was a cold and cruel woman; that much was obvious the moment Eerin stepped into the room. She was tall and bony, in her mid to late sixties, with short, salon perfect white hair, designer label glasses and tastefully done makeup. She wore a respectable suit-skirt with a shawl wrapped tightly over her shoulders, and those cold, piercing green eyes that she recognised in Darcy. There was some family resemblance, she decided, in the expressions of haughtiness and pride as she turned her nose up at all around her.

Her daughter was quiet, but just as snobbish. She was in her mid thirties and dressed in the newest fashions with a perfectly primped chocolate brown bob, but she was too angular and pale to be pretty. In addition, it was a little unnerving that Arianna du Bourg constantly applied instant hand sanitiser upon touching _anything_.

Richard was the other stranger at the table, but instantly became the preferred company. He looked to be approaching his forties and had a few grey hairs in his sandy blonde mop, but he had a kind smile. There was something about the expression in his eyes that reminded her of Darcy, but the colour was quite different. He was a handsome fellow, a little on the chubby side, but still very attractive. And he was undoubtedly charming, which certainly helped.

"Terrified of horses? Now, Miss Beaumont, what did the poor creatures ever do to _you_?" Catherine questioned curtly.

"Broke one arm, three ribs and knocked out two teeth," she answered diligently. Jan sent her sister a concerned glance. "So I don't like horses."

Catherine gave a slight scoffing sound. "You weren't killed, you should have tried again. You said you were musical?" she continued snappishly.

"I'm in a band called _The Little Lions_. I do a combination of guitar, piano, vocals, and sometimes strings if we feel the piece calls for them," she answered simply.

"A _band_? How quaint. And how long has this been going on for?" she questioned with a small smirk.

"Since I was thirteen, ma'am."

"Thirteen? Good Lord, that's quite some time. You must be close with the other band members," she pointed out. Eerin nodded.

"Yes. Hamish, the other singer, is one of my best friends," she answered simply.

"And you don't draw?"

"I can attempt. Stick figures are just about the extent of my abilities," she replied diligently.

"Hmm. I think every woman should be able to draw. Arianna is very skilled," she informed her with a proud smirk. "And Darcy, too. He's skilled enough to be one of the masters," she boasted. Eerin turned to her Professor in surprise.

"You like art?"

"I read art history and theory at Oxford, so I would say so," he shrugged.

"I can fold this napkin into a swan," Richard informed her smugly.

"Very good, Richard. You'll be running the empire in no time," Catherine drawled. "You are quite a conundrum, Miss Beaumont."

"My ego thanks you for the compliment."

"Quiet. Your attitude to your elders astounds me. Are you so disrespectful to your parents?" she demanded with a raised brow.

"Perhaps what you consider 'disrespect' is simply the first awkward conversations of an acquaintance. I don't know you, you don't know me, and until that is rectified, I'm afraid we'll simply have to stagger through as best we can," she replied, sipping from her glass with an air of quiet security.

Catherine looked at her behind a narrowed gaze. She heard Darcy inhale as if in trepidation beside her, but ignored it. Jan looked very pale, Chase was half-way between laughter and dread, Collins was nearly hiding under the table and Richard was smiling.

"You have a great deal of spirit, Miss Eerin Beaumont, and I admire spirit. You need not fear me –"

"Oh, I don't."

"Good. Well then, I think a few lunches would be acceptable, I do enjoy a decent puzzle," she declared, throwing down her dessert menu.

"Huh?"

"Not so eloquent now, Miss Eerin. Lunch. With you. And myself. I would like to see a little more of this spirit," she clarified firmly. "Have you all decided what you wish to order, or will the sorbet suffice for the rest of you?" she questioned, glancing around.

"I'll have whatever Darcy is having," Richard said instantly.

"Do you trust his judgements of desserts so well?" Eerin laughed, turning to her 'daddy'.

"Darcy only has one human weakness – and that's chocolate," Richard informed her, glancing to his cousin, who was looking over the dessert menu with a vague curiosity. "He always orders the best desserts, they're always smothered in chocolate and incredibly unhealthy, but the man is so addicted it's almost beautiful," he explained.

"I'm denying nothing," Darcy said simply, his eyes not moving from the menu.

"Have you been to Max Brenner yet?" she questioned curiously. He shook his head.

"Should I?"

"Oh my Lord. You've never been to Max Brenner?" she exclaimed with wide eyes. "It's only the most _amazing_ chocolate café in the world!"

"I don't know. I've already sampled a few chocolate cafés in Sydney, the Lindt and Guylian cafés were quite impressive," he shrugged.

"They're nothing. Max Brenner. If you've never been, I have no other options than to take you," she decided firmly. He blinked in slight surprise.

"Can I come too?" Richard requested eagerly.

"Of course. Now I suggest the one in Manly, we'll have to take a ferry but it's worth it. And there's a really adorable German girl there for you to hit on," she continued. Richard grinned.

"Brilliant. Do you have any sexy friends, daughter, that could join us?" he questioned hopefully.

"Carmen would love to come; she'll hit on anything with a pulse. You two will get along well," she assured him with a laugh, before turning to Darcy. "So? Will you come with? We can go tomorrow after the lecture," she suggested. He sighed.

"Alright. I'll join you. But only because I don't trust Richard not to hit on a woman half his age," he agreed finally.

"Brilliant! Now what's for dessert?" she questioned.

"The chocolate soufflé. Richard, you're ordering it with a side of pecans, because I know how much you like to throw them at passing waiters," he answered. Richard practically giggled.

"Good. Now. Cognac?"

"Of course."

"Eerin? A nightcap?" he questioned, turning to his side.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Richard Fitzwilliam?" she laughed, her dark eyes sparkling prettily.

"Of course. Have you ever had cognac before?" he enquired, to which she shook her head innocently. Richard sniggered. "Then we'll get her a double and see how she can handle it. Napoleon, if they have it, should knock her over," he said to his cousin thoughtfully.

"You're incorrigible, Richard. She's had a few glasses of wine already, and she's about the size of a small kitten. You'll have her unconscious by the end of this evening," he warned sternly.

"I can handle it. I mean, I'm not much of a drinker, but I don't think a little bit of cognac would hurt much," she assured them. Richard smirked.

"We've drunk our way through Europe on a ten month pub crawl. _You_, missy, are going down," he declared. Eerin raised a brow.

"Well then. A double cognac and we'll make sure they keep them coming," she proposed simply, finishing off the last of her wine. "I'd like to see Professor Darcy drunk. Should be interesting," she added with a laugh, lowering the empty glass.

"Interesting? Minor nudity, dancing, declarations of love, sprouts of poetry and a few drunken brawls. It's fascinating," Richard sniggered.

"Really, sir? You're a bit of an inappropriate drunk?" she challenged with a quirked brow.

"He's a wicked man when soused, Miss Beaumont, I would advise steering clear," Richard warned. Eerin turned back to Darcy, who was smiling slightly into his nearly empty glass. "Actually, he's a very wicked man all the time. You just have to push the right buttons and he can be the most fun you'll ever experience. And no, that wasn't meant to sound dirty, but somehow it did," he added thoughtfully.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Richard. I'm a perfectly amicable drunk, and I'm perfectly amicable when sober, too," he replied innocently, but his tiny, knowing smirk rendered that statement moot. "Now. About that soufflé."

* * *

"Is she –"

"Nope. I'm perfectly soberrr, Janni-Panni. And since you're planning on getting lucky, these nice gentlemens have agreed to take me house. I mean, home. I mean, your house. Flat. Flat house, flat home. For flat people. I'm getting fat, too fat to be flat," Eerin muttered thoughtfully, when a concerned Jannali had approached her after dinner.

"What have you done to my sister?" Jan questioned Richard and Darcy with slight annoyance, who were both sniggering.

"Nothing at all. Or at least nothing that Auntie saw," Richard replied promptly. "Now. We need to get her out of here, before Catherine notices," he muttered, beginning to lead the girl away.

"Miss Eerin Beaumont, it was a very interesting experience," came a sudden cool voice from behind. Richard and Darcy both cursed, but reluctantly turned to face their Aunt.

"Indeed, Mrs du Bourg," Eerin replied sombrely.

"And I look forwards to seeing you on Friday for lunch."

"Indeed, Mrs du Bourg," she repeated, before giving a small curtsey (that was pulled off remarkably well, despite a slight drunken sway), to which Catherine smirked.

"It's good to see you now understand respect. I will see you Friday, child," she nodded, before turning away. Darcy let out a breath of relief.

"Very good, Missy. Now, we need to get you out of here before she realises that you're completely wasted," Richard muttered, steering the staggering girl out of the restaurant and into the cool night air.

"Hey. I don't put out on first sultanas," she muttered with a frown. Richard sniggered.

"Dates. It's dates, and I shan't take advantage of you, m'lady. But I can't say the same for my cousin," he replied with a laugh.

"But I don't wants Ariananananananana-banananananana takin' advantage of _moi_," she cried petulantly. Richard gave another laugh.

"She's _adorable_!" he mouthed to his cousin, who grinned, and nodded.

"Come here, you little drunkard," Darcy requested with a smile, holding the girl steady against his side, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Hmm. You smell like nice stuff. Like a boy," she sighed. He chuckled, and smoothed back a lock of hair as they headed to the carpark. He was taking advantage of the fact that she wouldn't remember the events of that night the next morning.

"Thank you. You smell quite nice too," he assured her.

"I didn't know she was such a lightweight. She's even worse than Chase," Richard exclaimed.

"Hmm. But you're _much_ lovelier than Chase, aren't you, my darling," he returned with a slightly tipsy smile, kissing the top of her head. She giggled.

"Hmm. I like it when you... say that stuff," she mumbled sleepily.

"I'm in no condition to drive, I'm afraid. Please take the wheel, Richard," Darcy requested, blinking slightly as the headlights on his car flashed upon being unlocked.

"Of course, my dear cousin. You can sit in the back and be inappropriate with the lady," Richard offered gallantly, sliding into the front seat. "I love these Australians, they're so hospitable, putting the wheel on the _right_ side!" he sighed happily, as Darcy and Eerin climbed into the backseat. She almost immediately closed her eyes and her breathing slowed, sprawled over the seat with her head in his lap. Darcy pulled on his seatbelt and did his best with hers, smiling gently as he stroked the side of her sleeping face. "Hmm. You've not _said_ the 'L' word yet, but it's pretty obvious," Richard pointed out, bringing the engine to life.

"I know. I'm deep in this, Richard," Darcy sighed.

"Find her purse and see if she's got the key to her sister's place. If she doesn't we might as well take her back to your flat," Richard directed. Not even thinking about the invasion of privacy, he slipped the small satin bag off her wrist and loosened the drawstrings.

"Yay. I love finding tampons in women's bags," he muttered, sorting through a phone, an ipod, a small money purse, some feminine articles and a tiny, scrunched up penguin classic, before pulling out a set of keys. "Got them."

"Good. Now continue to stare at her in disbelief and yearning."

"I can't ignore this for much longer. I've never needed another person so much," he mumbled, his eyes locked to her soft features.

"It's understandable, you didn't tell me how _gorgeous_ she is," Richard argued with slight annoyance.

"If I did, you'd never give _me_ a chance. I don't want to share her with you, Richard," he responded possessively.

"You've only known her a little while," he pointed out. Darcy shrugged.

"I know. I know it doesn't make sense. But I... what I feel for her is more than I've ever felt for anyone. I never felt for Laura this way. Eerin is... she's something special, Richard," he muttered.

"She's hot."

"That too. Now turn here, the building is just up at the end of this road," he instructed.

He sat in silence, stroking the side of Eerin's cheek as they drove to her sister's flat. It could just be the several glasses of cognac he consumed at dinner, or it could be the build-up of his feelings, but he had reached a point where he didn't think he could be separated from Eerin for another minute. He hadn't lied to Richard – she was steadily growing to be more important to him than anyone in the world, and he didn't even know how that had happened so quickly. In a little over two months he was head over heels – how was that even possible?

"Come on, little one. Time you got some sleep," Darcy sighed, easing the woozy form of Eerin Beaumont up with reluctant movements. He instantly missed the warmth she had provided, but the adorable drunken whimpers she was emitting made up for his loss.

"Where am I?" she questioned, her voice muffled with her face pressed into his shoulder.

"We're taking you to your sister's flat. You'll be able to get some rest there," he assured her gently.

"Who're you?"

"Darcy. It's just Darcy, I won't hurt you," he replied, smoothing back her hair as they stumbled out of the car.

"Oh. What's wrong with me?" she asked with a petulant frown.

"You've had a little too much to drink, Eerin. It's alright, we'll get you to bed and everything will be alright," he answered, as they staggered into the lobby. Darcy inspected the keys; luckily one had the room number engraved on it.

"No... what's wrong with _me_?" she demanded, sighing and wrapping her arms around his waist. He shivered with their closeness.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Eerin, darling. You're perfect," he murmured in reply. Richard rolled his eyes at their soppiness, pressing the button for the lift to open.

"Carmen's right. But I didna _want_ him to kiss me," she insisted firmly. Darcy froze.

"Who kissed you?" he demanded in anger.

"Darce!" Richard hissed.

"Sorry. Who kissed you?" he questioned, softening his tone.

"He just... kissed me. Why did he do that? I was havin' fun before. And he tried to eat my mouth," she muttered with an annoyed sort of frown, before he pulled her into the open lift, and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

"He tried to – he bit your lip?"

"He's a _baaaaad_ kisser. I mean, I'm no sexpert but he's a _baaaaaad_ kisser. I've kissed _girls_ that are better than him," she commented. Richard bit back a snigger and Darcy rolled his eyes. "Hmm. Maybe dats why they all think I'm a lessa... lesso... lessbie... an?" she questioned thoughtfully. "But I'm _not_. I didn't like it, so I'm bot. Cot. Not. _Not_, that's the one I wanted. So. Now. Here. Where is here?" she enquired, glancing around curiously.

"Eerin, who kissed you?" Darcy asked gently, fearful of the answer. Either it was Hamish or Graham – and he didn't want _either _of them kissing _his_ Eerin. But he certainly knew which one he would prefer to kiss her, if one of them _had_ to.

"Grey. Am. Greyyyyyyhhhhhham. Sir Jerks-a-lot. He dunna like _you_," she informed him, falling out of the lift when the doors slid open. "Owwwwwwwwwww. That hurt," she declared, unsteadily rising to her feet. "Why do boys _do_ that? Why can't they leave me _alone_?" she questioned angrily, practically shouting by this stage.

"Shhh, Eerin. It's alright, keep your voice down," Darcy urged her, trying his best to conceal his anger at her confession. He pulled her into his arms. "What happened then?" he asked softly.

"I drove away. Because I don't like him anymores. Smores. I want a tim-tam," she muttered. "And I won't be a calling _him_! He's not worth it! He... he crossed the _line_, Professor Darcy. There's a _line,_ and he jumped all over it! Because I think I like someone _else_," she whispered conspiratorially, poking him in the chest. Darcy daren't hope – but the conviction in her voice made him do just that.

"Who, Eerin?" he questioned, with a small smile.

"Don't tell him. You. Or Carr. Carm_en_. 'Specially you, cos it's you. Because I hate him too. You. Why are you so _mean_ sometimes?" she frowned. He laughed.

"Because. I'm a man. Now come on, you need to get to bed," he shushed her; a broad, giddy smile completely taking over his features as he practically carried her down the hall. Richard gave him a smile and a wink.

"Lucky bugger," he muttered with a laugh. Darcy couldn't help but agree. "Try to keep her shut up, I doubt the neighbours would really be appreciative," he advised.

"Perhaps we should have thought this through. She doesn't seem to want to come quietly," Darcy commented over the sound of Eerin's loud tune-less humming.

"Well if I were as overly sensitive as you, I doubt _I_ would want her to come quietly, either," Richard sniggered. His cousin shot him a scowl and a roll of his eyes before Eerin gave a rather adorable hiccup and started singing a rather rowdy song about saucepans.

They found the door with ease, and managed to get the right key in without disturbing any neighbours. The flat was small, but clean and well-decorated. It relied on pale colours and great deals of white, making it seem very pure, which really did suit Jannali.

"This looks like it'll do," Richard called out, having found the bedroom. Darcy picked the now unconscious Eerin Beaumont up and carried her in, laying her atop the bed. "What do we do now?" Richard questioned with a slight frown.

"Uhhh... you take off her shoes, I'll go find an extra blanket," Darcy muttered, not trusting himself to simply remove her heels. He knew Richard was a womaniser, but he had a good sense of decency, and wouldn't cross the line with Eerin if he knew his cousin's feelings towards her.

By the time Darcy had returned with an extra blanket, Richard had removed her shoes and coat and shifted her into a slightly more comfortable position. She gave a slight whimper as he placed the blanket atop her, but slept on. He brushed a lock of dark hair from her face, and allowed his thumb to trace the outline of her features. He didn't even realise when Richard crept out of the room, but he took advantage of his cousin's absence to press a light kiss to her cheek, before passing his lips ever so lightly over her lips.

"Hey. Just got her some water," Richard declared, stepping into the room. Darcy nodded as the glass was placed by the bed. "And some pain killers. Thought those would be good in the morning," he added with a knowing smile. "She as good as said that she likes you, Darce. You're in with a pretty good chance," he assured him.

"I hope so. I almost pretended I couldn't find the key so she could come home with me," he sighed, before wincing with the realisation of what he had admitted. "We should get back. I've got a lecture in the morning," he declared finally, standing up.

"Of course, lover boy. Come on."

Darcy gave her one last longing glance before he left the flat with Richard. He was silent on the drive home, contemplating her words. He wanted to believe what she was saying was true, but he was still somewhat doubtful. He sighed, and stared out into the dark Sydney night.

He'd simply have to investigate tomorrow.

**A/N: Alright, so for those who actually read my author's notes, you might recall that I planned on going to Melbourne this week. Well, the full story is on my blog www lejardindeve dot blogspot, but basically, we got to Glenrowan and had the transition or transistor or something fell off. Or exploded. I don't know, there was a bang, and there shouldn't have been a bang, as the car is still relatively new and in pretty good condition, but I know nothing about cars, not even how to drive them. Anyway, the car is in Victoria and we are back in New South Wales, so much for the exciting road trip to Melbourne with my dad. But thank you all for your well wishes and tips regardless, hopefully I will be going back there in two weeks to pick up the car with dad, so fingers crossed it all works out the second time round!**

**Anyways, new chapter! So, I've heard your concerns about certain characters being flat, which I have taken onboard, but the point is that if I don't explore the character a great deal, then they aren't important to the plot. Collins isn't important to the plot. He's just a guinea pig. Anyway, enough of my excuses, I'm tired, so, enjoy the chapter, and if you're at all curious about how I got back to Sydney (it's an interesting story, I can tell you), just check out my blog :D**

**PS: Oh, I cut all my hair off today. Well, no, I paid someone to do that, but it's boy length. I'm very excited. I'll post pictures on my blog soon. **


	13. Of Food and Flirtation

"_She is dangerous, she is dangerous I'm sure,_

_And she's all dressed up and knocking on my door_

_She is dangerous, she is dangerous I know,_

_But she's got my heart and she's never letting go,"_

-James Blunt, 'Dangerous'

"You look terrible," Darcy informed his best student diligently when she stumbled up to the front of the classroom after the lecture. She wore a pair of dark black sunglasses, grey tights, boots, an oversized plaid shirt and a dark cardigan with a scarf that seemed to be almost twice her size.

"Slight hangover," she grumbled, before sending him a glare he could feel through her sunglasses. "And although the events of last night are a little hazy, but I suspect _you_ and that other guy were responsible for it," she muttered, before giving a groan and holding her head. "Come on then. Car should be outside already. I hope that friend of yours is around here somewhere," she said finally, downing half a bottle of vitamin water before she spoke.

"Ah. So you're in a condition to go to this Max Brenner place?" he questioned in surprise.

"Chocolate is my hangover cure. And I said I would, I think, so we might as well. I think I said that," she muttered thoughtfully, rubbing her head. "I remember your Aunt. Lord, she was a piece of work... and I remember most of dinner. I think dessert is where it all goes blurry. I don't even know how I got home," she sighed.

"Richard should be just across the road by now. Are you sure you're in a condition to do this?" he enquired somewhat doubtfully, eager to change the subject, lest he be forced to explain how she arrived at Jan's flat in one piece.

"I'm fine. But slightly annoyed. Why is it you don't look in the _least_ bit hung over?" she demanded accusingly.

"Men tend to absorb alcohol better. And I drunk vast amounts of water," he added smartly. She rolled her eyes.

"Damn intelligent people, thinking ahead. Well we should go, I need chocolate _now_," she said firmly, swinging her vintage leather satchel over her shoulder, and taking another mouthful of bright purple vitamin water. "God _dammit_, why is the bloody _sun_ out?" she cried angrily, when they headed out of the classroom and into the daylight. Darcy resisted the urge to laugh.

"Come on. Anyone would think you were a character out of Twilight," he directed, leading her towards the small café by the University where they could already see Carmen sitting.

"You read Twilight?" she questioned doubtfully.

"Ana does. She's mildly obsessed at the moment. It's helped her transition off Harry Potter, however, so I condone it for that sake, because since the age of eight she's been convinced she's going to marry Daniel Radcliffe," he explained.

"Good. Because if you were a Twilight fan, I would tie you to the road during peak hour traffic," she snapped. Darcy coloured slightly, contemplating what it would be like to be tied to something by Eerin Beaumont.

A bed, preferably.

"Not a fan yourself?" he asked, giving a slight cough to mask his entirely inappropriate thoughts.

She laughed bitterly. "_No_. My sisters are, though, particularly Maiya. But she's a bit weird. And Jan likes it, but she pretends she doesn't because she knows how much I hate it," she explained.

"Several million screaming teenage girls probably want to hurt you severely for that, you know," he pointed out.

"Hmm. My sisters certainly do. Leena and Kylie are team Edward, Kylie was originally Jacob but Leena forced her to convert. Maiya pretends she's team Jacob, but she's really team Alice," she explained.

"Ana is Jacob."

"Do you have any idea what it means?" she laughed. He guiltily shook his head.

"She's tried to explain it to me several times, but to avoid that sort of conversation I tend to pull out vast amounts of research on vampires in mythology. She gets bored very quickly," he explained. Eerin rolled her eyes as they crossed the road.

"Good on you. I drown it out, but even Mum likes it. She's team Edward too. But the annoying thing is that they watch the movie and then speak in American accents for the rest of the day, and put on really pale makeup," she sighed, shaking her head. "I read the books though, because they forced me to and I felt bad for being mean to all the Tweens and Twihards with no justification, but they were all terrible. Absolute dribble. Nearly blew my own head off," she informed him quite factually.

"I've not even made the attempt."

"Don't. It'll be the biggest waste of your time. Even watching the cricket is slightly more productive than Twilight, and I put that below watching paint dry," she advised. He nodded with a small smile.

"Well thank you for the warning. I'll bear that in mind when Ana attempts to smuggle the books into my suitcase again," he assured her, just as they stopped before Carmen's table at the café.

Darcy wouldn't exactly call the woman pretty, but there was something rather attractive about her. She was much taller than Eerin, and a fair bit plumper. Although, to be fair, Eerin was so incredibly thin that _everyone_ looked overweight beside her. She had shiny rolls of black hair and eyes so dark they could have been of a matching shade, with olive skin and full red lips. Her clothing was a little tight and a little low-cut, but if she dressed sensibly and didn't wear so much makeup she could be considered a beautiful woman.

"Hey. So we're still on for Manly, or are you going to band practise?" Carmen questioned, sitting up immediately.

"Yeah, it's still on. But I've got my violin in here so I'll go over to Hamish's later," she replied, patting her satchel. "Seen a blonde pom around here? He's coming too," she questioned, glancing around.

"Pom?" Darcy questioned in surprise.

"Oh. That's what we Aussies call the British. Don't worry, we love you guys, but it's just a nickname. Some people use it to be offensive, but we certainly don't," Carmen assured him, slowly running her eyes up and down his figure. He shifted uncomfortably when she gave a familiar sort of predatory smile. "Don't worry. Not many people get it, they think we're racist. I guess you have to be around here for a while to sort of understand our sense of humour. We'll tease just about anything," she added, misunderstanding his concern.

"Good to know," he muttered, looking away awkwardly. He spotted Richard chatting up a waitress out of the corner of his eye.

"Daddy! There you are. Ready to go?" Eerin questioned, stepping up to the gentleman. The waitress' eyes widened, and she stepped back from him immediately, glancing between the two with shock.

"Ah. Child. Don't bother your father when he's trying to pick up," he scolded her, but was unable to resist giving a small chuckle. He ruffled her hair teasingly. "How's the head?" he questioned with concern. She shrugged.

"Self-imploding. But chocolate will soon cure that," she sighed. "Come on then, we need to head over to Circular Quey. Might as well take my car, it's just up the road but you boys don't look like you've been on a train in your entire lives, and I doubt you'd agree with the walk in those shoes," she commented, glancing at Richard's snakeskin loafers, before leading them over to the side-street where her little blue Echo was parked.

"So you got a car?" Darcy questioned conversationally.

"Well, it's not technically mine, but the parentals are letting me use it now that Mum bought herself a new one," she explained. "You and Richard might as well be in the front, your legs are too long to take a back seat," she added, tossing him the keys, before climbing into the back with Carmen.

"Cute little thing. I think I got one of these out of a box of cereal when I was a boy," Richard sniggered.

"Hey, it's tiny, but it gets me from point A to B," she defended with a laugh as he got into the passenger's seat, next to Darcy. They both spent a few minutes adjusting their chairs before Darcy could finally turn the car on. The stereo instantly boomed into life, her iPod still hooked up to the speakers.

"You _listen_ to this sort of stuff?" Darcy exclaimed in shock, turning the volume down immediately, cutting the sound of clashing guitars with full distortion, Damien Rice's screaming voice wailing in the background.

"I have classical, if you'd like," she offered simply. "Actually, no! This is perfect, I now have the opportunity to introduce you to some _real_ music," she said triumphantly, reaching over and searching through songs as he began to drive through the Sydney streets.

"Pretty place, actually," Richard commented thoughtfully.

"We're quite attached. Now this is Bon Iver, he may be a bit folksy for you, but it's a good introduction before you get into Ryan Adams and Bright Eyes, and not quite as Crosby Stills and Nash as Fleet Foxes," she declared, playing one of her favourite songs, _RE: Stacks_.

"Don't worry, I think it's crap too. If you ignore the folksy stuff though, she's got pretty good taste," Carmen commented.

"Of course I do. I'm epic. Now, quiet everyone, _listen_," she urged them, turning up the volume.

The car trip was short, so she didn't have the opportunity to introduce Darcy to much music at all, which he was inwardly thankful for. He didn't mind it, really, that Bon Iver fellow was quite good, but he couldn't stand anything by 'Bright Eyes', it was completely chaotic and almost unendurable.

"You have to get past that. Connor Oberst is up there with Bob Dylan and Augie March in terms of songwriting. And Mumford & Sons are pretty good too," she insisted thoughtfully as she parked her car and they headed over to the ferries. She bought them a few tickets and they walked past the barrier, waiting for the next one to arrive. The water was choppy and the skies grey, but it was still a very pleasant sort of day.

"I'll take your word on that," he replied. She laughed, and rolled her eyes, pulling out her violin from her bag. Out of boredom she began playing it like a ukulele; the only thing missing was a Hawaiian shirt and a grass skirt.

"So do you do this often?" he questioned curiously.

"What, insult every violinist in the world by pretending this is a guitar, or catch the ferry to Manly?" she enquired with a quirked brow that was barely visible behind her dark glasses.

"Both, I suppose," he shrugged.

She laughed. "On a hot day in summer it's nice to just catch the ferry across and spend the day on the beach. There's good shopping there too, which always helps," she answered simply, strolling across to the ramp when the ferry came in. "Alright then, I'd advise we go on the sides. The front and back is always too crowded and I hate sitting inside," she suggested, avoiding the crowds of people and leading Richard, Carmen and Darcy onto the sides of the ferry, where they could see the water sloshing around them.

"Your friend should be warned about Richard," Darcy frowned slightly, glancing to the two. Richard was obviously using his 'Fitzwilliam' charm to lure the poor girl in.

"Actually, Richard should be warned about Carmen. Between the two I don't know who's in more danger," she laughed, stepping away from the couple to offer them some privacy. She sighed as the cool air filled her lungs, pulling off her dark glasses and wrapping her scarf over her dark hair, which was pulled into a lazy bun. She reached into her pocket for her ipod, and before he could protest, shoved the little white headphones into his ears and began to play him a song. "This is _Mumford & Sons_. They're really good," she assured him.

"_It's empty in the valley of your heart,  
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk,  
Away from all the fears, and all the faults you've left behind_..."

He watched her as lyrics that were familiar, despite him never hearing them before swum in his ears. She was leaning against the railing, still mindlessly strumming on her violin, staring out into the dark waves.

He was quite certain his gaze never left her until the song changed, and he realised his eyes had been locked onto the curve of her jaw for several minutes. He cursed himself, and continued to focus on lyrics, not her.

"_I will die alone, and be left there,  
Well I guess I'll just go home, oh God knows where  
Because death is just so full, and man so small,  
Well I'm scared of what's behind, and what's before_..."

"Do you like them?" she asked finally, when he lowered the headphones.

"They're good," he conceded, and he was being honest. They _were_ very good. Slightly more bluesy than the first fellow she had played for him, but not as bad as the second band, with all the angry instruments and the miserable lyrics.

"I knew you'd be able to see that," she declared triumphantly. "Alright, we'd best head for the exits, it gets crowded when everyone is trying to leave at once," she instructed. She glanced over his shoulder and laughed. He caught the line of her gaze and rolled his eyes, Richard and Carmen were still flirting rather shamelessly with each other.

"She's probably half his age," Darcy muttered with an obvious frown.

"She's a few years older than me, Professor, she's hardly a child," she laughed in response.

"When we're out of the classroom, you can call me Darcy, you know. I won't condemn you," he pointed out, still glancing at his cousin in annoyance.

"I'll remember that, Darcy. Car knows her way around Manly, we should probably let the lovebirds be," she replied with a small smile to her friend, before she pulled him towards the exit. "Come on then, you're too lazy," she urged, practically tugging him through the already dense crowd, laughing with enjoyment the whole while. Darcy even found himself smiling by the time they'd gotten off the ramp.

"You're _quite_ insane," he informed her, pretending he was irritated. She gave a carefree smile.

"Obviously. Come on then, Max Brenner is up here," she directed, leading him through the now dispersing crowd.

"So how long have you lived in Merryton?" he questioned curiously. She shrugged.

"My whole life," she answered simply.

"So you've always been close to the city. That explains why you know where you're going," he pointed out. She laughed.

"Uhhh, I don't know if I'm the most knowledgeable tour guide around, but I haven't gotten lost around here for quite some time," she answered simply. They passed the barriers and began strolling up past small shops. "Boost is up there. They're really good too, they do fruit smoothies, any kind you could ever imagine. I live off them," she informed him. "And the gelato place is really good too. And that newsagent stocks _Lula_ magazine, which is really hard to find," she informed him, pointing out landmarks.

"Do you come here often?"

"Not a lot, really only when I want to go to the beach or see Maggie, there's a Max Brenner where I work," she said simply, slipping her violin back into her satchel as they came up to a small but cosy little café with a dark sultry sort of environment. "The one in the Merryton Hills Town Centre is bigger. But I think the one at Castle Hill is the biggest – that's _really_ good," she insisted, as they stepped in. "Go sit down, I'll say hi to Magdelena and get some menus," she instructed. He obediently nodded, and took a seat in a cosy corner booth by the window.

She returned in a few minutes, and tossed her bag down.

"Maggie'll be here in a minute. You'd best just start with a hot chocolate or something, but the menu goes on forever so you'll be hard pressed to choose just one thing," she informed him, before passing over a vibrantly coloured menu.

"You know one of the waitresses?" he questioned with a raised brow. She nodded.

"She tried to teach me German. She's not getting very far with that," she replied, inspecting her own menu.

"How did you meet her?" he enquired curiously.

"Oh. Uh, well, she... she was an exchange at my high school; we had a few classes together and... hung out a bit. She moved here permanently a few years ago and got a place in Manly," she answered simply, with an air of someone who didn't particularly want to discuss the matter, which only pushed Darcy onwards.

"Was she a girlfriend?" he questioned innocently. Eerin's eyes widened, and she gave a slight groan, resting her forehead in her palm.

"I was young, and curious," she insisted. Darcy hid a smirk, his emerald eyes flashing playfully. Really, he couldn't think of anything sexier than Eerin having been 'young and curious'. "I'm not a lesbian, I swear. It just took me a little while to work out," she said firmly.

"How long, exactly?"

"What, do you want details of every aspect of our past relationship?" she questioned with a raised brow. He shrugged, and smirked. "Well unfortunately, it's not that exciting. She was this gorgeous, confidant, experimental girl who knew what she was doing with both sexes, and I was terrified I was gay and would be rejected from society. She knew what she was doing, I didn't, and let me tell you, it's an awkward thing to suddenly realise that you're straight when you've just taken your clothes off in front of another girl," she informed him with a slight shudder.

"You got that far then?" he commented in surprise. She rolled her dark eyes.

"Once was enough to convince me that I wasn't interested. She of course, was terribly considerate and didn't make me feel insecure or horrible, but insisted that I might be bi, like she is. Although, I'm pretty sure I'm sticking to the other team. Thus beginning my awful history with men," she sighed, before turning back to her menu. "I think I'll start with the Danish toffee, and I'll demand she give it to me in a kangaroo mug with waffle balls too," she decided promptly.

"I'm sure, having taken your clothes off for the waitress, she will be happy to accommodate you," he sniggered. Eerin's cheeks flushed red.

"I was just _curious_! Can we _please_ never discuss this?" she begged melodramatically. He laughed, and nodded.

"Fine. I'll be adventurous and go for the Mexican. Is it any good?" he questioned, moving the topic along.

"Yes, but Maggie has an awful sense of humour and enjoys making it extra spicy," she warned him.

"Oh, I'll bet she does."

"That was _so_ not intended to be sexual," she muttered in slight annoyance. He gave another smirk.

"Fine. I'll tone it down," he swore, raising his hands in surrender. She regarded him momentarily with a slight frown, as if she didn't trust him.

"You'd better. Now, I'd advise that because you're a Max Brenner virgin –" he sniggered at her terminology, and she scowled, before continuing, "you should attempt something like the Italian. That's _really_ good," she insisted firmly.

"I think I'll be alright," he laughed, turning a few pages on the menu.

"Says the virgin."

Darcy bit his lip to avoid laughter.

"If you want me to refrain from making comments regarding your sexual exploits, you _really_ have to stop making it so easy for me," he warned. She laughed, and nodded, before he turned back to the menu. "Unusual names," he commented, glancing over one particular item listed before him.

"Say it in a husky voice and see if we can get Maggie to blush," she dared, glancing over to see what he was inspecting.

"No."

"Do it!"

"Not a chance," he insisted firmly. She sighed.

"Fine, I'll order it, but _you_ are eating it, because I don't like dark chocolate," she decided, just as a cute little blonde girl approached, with honey-blonde hair cropped as short as a boy. She was very pretty, and somehow he could picture her as exactly the kind of girl a younger, more inquisitive Eerin would be attracted to.

"This is your Professor?" she questioned in surprise, glancing at Darcy with widened eyes. She had a cute little German accent as well.

"In the flesh. Please feel free to drool, just do it away from me," she replied, closing her menu and turning to her friend with a teasing smile. "The professor is a Max Brenner virgin, Mags. And in his naïveté he's decided to try the Mexican spicy hot chocolate. _Please_ don't overspice," she practically begged. Maggie laughed, and nodded, tearing her eyes away from Darcy.

"Alright. What else?" she agreed, scribbling down the order.

"Danish toffee for me, and because you love me, can you put it in the kangaroo mug with some white chocolate, _and_ whipped cream, _and_ waffle balls?" she requested innocently. Maggie groaned.

"Alright, but you'll have a heart attack and get fat!" she insisted, her chocolate brown eyes wary.

"Ah, but what a way to go!" Eerin laughed. "Okay, and I'll have the choc-nut brownie, the chocolate mountain and throw some strawberries in there so I don't pass out," she continued, before looking Maggie square in the face. "And he'll have the _dark sensual dome_," she finished, fluttering her eyelashes, speaking in a low voice and doing her best not to laugh. Darcy shifted with slight discomfort, thinking how much he'd like her to speak like that to him.

"And this is why I thought you were into girls, Eerin. Got to stop giving the wrong impression," Maggie sighed, scribbling it down as Eerin started to giggle. Darcy merely shook his head, causing her amusement to increase. "Just for that, no kangaroo mug for you!" Maggie insisted finally, to which Eerin immediately shot up, her eyes wide in fear.

"You can't cut me off, babe. Don't do this to me," she begged. Maggie rolled her eyes.

"So _dramatic_. Alright. I'll be back with your drinks soon," she muttered, slipping the notebook back into her pocket and strolling behind the counter.

"You're absolutely insane," Darcy informed her. She giggled, and nodded, pulling two bottles of Mt. Franklin water from her satchel, and placing one before him.

"You're going to need this if you intend on getting through alive. The trick is to break it up with water and fruit so you can handle the sweetness," she explained.

"I might be a Max Brenner virgin, but I'm not a chocolate virgin. In fact, in terms of chocolate, I would probably be described as an individual of very loose morals," he objected.

"Hmm. My professor is a Chocolate Slut. Anyway, I guess I'm lucky you're not teaching morals in class," she sighed dramatically, leaning back in her booth chair. "I really hope Carmen doesn't hurt Richard. He's a funny one, but she might just eat him alive," she commented thoughtfully.

"I'd be more concerned for _your_ friend. Richard is a serial womaniser. He has been for as long as I've known him," Darcy warned.

"Hmm. Fair point," she agreed with a shrug. "So, holidays coming up, any plans?" she enquired.

"Yes, actually. Ana is coming over from England for a visit. I'm looking at finding a beach house where it's a little less crowded for the month so she can see a little sun," he answered.

"Really? Sounds exciting. I'd advise something around Port Stephens, it's reasonably quiet but has some nice beaches, and there's tons of holiday houses for rent. It's very nice up there," she informed him. He nodded. "As of yet I have no plans – but I've been thinking about a trip overseas. I'd like to go to Asia somewhere," she informed him.

"You would be travelling alone?"

"Of course. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself," she assured him.

"One would hope," he muttered. "So... not much to keep you in Sydney for the break?" he questioned with slight hesitation.

"Uhhh... there's a bit to make me _avoid_ Sydney," she laughed awkwardly, running a hand through her dark hair. "I don't know. The family is getting a little grating, I suppose, and I feel like I need the break from it all. Hamish might go with me, though. We've travelled together before, so we know each other's annoying little habits," she explained, just as Maggie appeared with their drinks. "Thanks, Mags. Is your break anytime soon?" she questioned curiously.

"I'm only here for a short shift, sorry Rin. I'll have your food ready in a minute," she replied, before disappearing once more.

"Alright. Yours is in a hug mug, that's why there's no handle. You're supposed to hold it with both hands," she explained, when he looked curiously at his drink.

"Yours is rather unusual," he commented, glancing to the frothy mess that was her Danish toffee chocolate. It at first appeared to be an ordinary coffee mug, but it had a separate sort of compartment that drained into the rest of the cup, and in it was lodged a piece of slowly melting white chocolate.

"It's the kangaroo mug. That's supposed to be its pouch," she explained, pointing with her long silver double-sided spoon. "Try yours, as long as she's not over-spiced it you should love it," she assured him. He sipped the warm concoction, and was immediately startled to realise how... _wonderful_ it tasted! He was quite an aficionado of chocolate, but from the first sip he could tell it was definitely one of the best.

"This is..."

"Epic. I know," she nodded smugly, scooping a mouthful of whipped cream between her lips. She raised the mug for a sip, and gave a small, happy sigh. He instantly forgot his own drink, and was enchanted with the tiny dollop of cream on the end of her nose and the satisfied smile on her lips. "I know I have shit on my face. I don't care at this point in the experience," she informed him with a laugh, wiping it off with her serviette.

"Why have I not tried this yet?" he exclaimed, taking another mouthful.

"Because your experience has been stupidly limited to fancy, expensive brands. You chocolate snob," she teased. He chuckled.

"My apologies. This is wonderful," he insisted.

"Good. It'll take you several months to know the menu backwards, but those months will be worth it. Oh, and you'll get fat, but that doesn't matter," she informed him.

"How on earth do you manage to stay so impossibly thin if you regularly eat this sort of food?" he asked with a frown. She shrugged lightly.

"I dunno, but I don't do this a lot," she laughed. "I don't eat much. I only eat one meal a day, usually, and I just have a juice or something when I'm hungry," she explained, taking another sip. He couldn't help the disapproving frown, to which she rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that. I just don't eat a lot, I physically don't have the room for it," she assured him.

"You would have room for three meals a day if you didn't starve yourself," he retorted sternly. She shook her head.

"I don't starve myself. I just don't eat a lot, I'm never hungry," she insisted firmly.

"You shouldn't –"

"I don't, professor, so stop _worrying_, or I'll make you listen to more Bright Eyes," she warned, with a teasing twinkle in her dark eyes.

By the time their food had arrived they'd settled into casual conversation. Eerin immediately dove into her brownie and chocolate muffin – topped with vanilla butter and chocolate rocks, as no less was acceptable, and Darcy had to admit, the dark chocolate mousse with a crème brulée centre? Pure heaven.

"How often do you go to this place?" he questioned curiously, between mouthfuls. She swallowed down a chunk of brownie that had been dunked in her hot chocolate.

"I normally go to the one at Merryton Hills once a week with Jan or Car, but I get takeaway hot chocolate between shifts and that," she shrugged. "Should we be concerned that Richard and Carmen haven't made an appearance yet?" she wondered thoughtfully.

"Knowing Richard, I doubt we'd want to know what they're up to," he replied, to which she laughed, and the topic of conversation moved along.

Darcy genuinely wasn't concerned, but he was inwardly very thankful that Richard had given him some time alone with Eerin. He _enjoyed_ simply sitting and talking to her, who wouldn't?

"He's a funny guy, you know," she commented with a small smile. Darcy ducked his head, determined not to be jealous. "I mean, it's kind of hard to tell you two are related. But I guess there's something about the eyes and you both have kind of floppy hair, but you're so different," she added thoughtfully, sipping her hot chocolate, her dark eyes scanning his features as if to search for similarities.

"Richard is... outgoing," he said finally, choosing his words carefully. She laughed.

"Yeah. _Very_ outgoing. That's the main difference between you two, I think," she explained, her dark amber eyes twinkling animatedly. In the light of the café he could see hints of sea green in those beautiful, sparkling eyes, and it was probably the most distracting thing in the world. He shrugged simply. "I think Richard and I have something in common. We both love a good laugh," she added.

"Yes. He finds humour in just about everything," he replied in muttered bitterness, glaring at his half-empty mug.

"I should entertain him with tales of how you terrorised your class on the first day. I saw those twenty students leave pretty much right away, you have a gift for frightening people," she laughed animatedly.

"Are you suggesting that I frighten _you_, too?" he questioned with a curiously raised brow. She grinned.

"It takes a little more than a broody demeanour and a few threats to frighten _me_, Darcy," she assured him challengingly. He hid a smirk.

"I only frighten those that don't know me," he defended modestly.

"And would it have been so hard to get to know your class before you had them all soiling their pants and running from the room screaming?" she teased with a cocked brow and a mouthful of hot chocolate.

"It... takes me a great deal of time to 'get to know' an individual," he replied finally, with obvious reluctance. "I... do not get along well with people I've not met before. I don't know them, I don't understand them, so I'm apt to rely on observations and deduction, which tends to leave them dehumanised," he confessed with slight difficulty. "And, usually they've heard of _me_, leaving us on unequal footing," he explained slowly, measuring out his words carefully.

"Well then, that leaves one question, and only one way to cure this drastic problem," she decided promptly.

"And the question is?" he trailed off. She gave a small smirk, and leant forwards. His eyes flickered momentarily to the slight slither of skin that was revealed on her shoulder as her folds of clothing shifted slightly, the V neck hinting at her cleavage. He hoped he wasn't too obvious, but really, he didn't give a damn.

"Why is it so important to you," she began, her voice low and personal, "To be the one on top all the time?" she questioned innocently. His mind immediately leapt to several interpretations of her question, neither of which, he was certain, were what she had meant to say.

"I'm sorry?"

"You don't have to understand them. You don't have to know all about them, you can jump in and take a risk," she shrugged. Darcy met her eyes with his usual intensity, pausing before responding.

"I do not possess the skill, Eerin," he began, his voice low and nearly a whisper. He thought he saw her shiver with the intimacy of their conversation, but it might have just been a trick of the light, like how her eyes were now shining a mixture of green and gold and burgundy, "of making friends easily. Of involving myself in casual conversation. I suppose I'm picky – but I'm also a very private man. A man who, for the most part, does prefer to be on top," he informed her quietly. Her perfectly sculpted brow rose challengingly, and the corners of her full red lips twitched.

"Well then. I suppose that leads me to the only cure – you just have to practise liking people, professor," she reasoned finally, with a playful tilt of her neck, her big dark eyes blinking innocently to him, as if she didn't even notice the innuendo tied to his words.

"I thought I already was."

The air between them was so thick he would have needed a knife to cut it. Not that he would want to do anything to ruin the moment between them. Shifting slightly, his leg brushed against hers beneath the table, and he was _sure_ he saw her shiver. She cleared her throat, and leant back, cheeks flushing.

"Well. It's good that you at least try," she decided, not meeting his eyes. She was saved having to stumble through an awkward post-flirtation conversation, however, with the return of Richard and Carmen.

The pair apologised for being late, but they didn't eat, as they had apparently had lunch somewhere else. Their flushed faces and bruised lips would suggest that 'lunch' was a loose term, but neither Darcy nor Eerin made comment, mostly due to the fact that they had completely stuffed their faces with food and were unable to.

"Do I have to take a ferry each day to come here?" Darcy questioned, when they were all headed back to the ferry.

"Uh, no, actually, I just wanted to say hi to Maggie," she smiled sheepishly. "There's one in the CBD, St Ives, Paddington, Newtown, pretty much everywhere," she informed him. He rolled his eyes.

"Good to know. What time does your band practise begin?" he enquired. She glanced at her watch.

"In... half an hour. Dammit. Well, I'm going to be late," she laughed, pulling out her phone. As they climbed onto the ferry, she apologised profusely to one of her band mates.

"Was that Kerry?"

"Yeah. He's pissed, but he loves me," she replied to Carmen who gave a low whistle after she had hung up the phone.

"You got off easy if you weren't cowering in fear through that whole conversation. I'm impressed."

"And Kerry is...?" Richard trailed off questioningly.

"Pernickety," Eerin supplied. "He's in my band. Most of the time he plays bass, he's sort of the one that makes sure we aren't lazy and never make an effort," she explained. "And we've got a gig Saturday night, so we kind of need the practise," she added with a laugh, plonking herself down on one of the benches on the side of the ferry.

"And where are my tickets for this gig?" Richard huffed. Eerin laughed.

"You can support my band by paying the twenty dollar entry so we can afford to make some more EPs," she challenged.

"I'm sure we can manage that," Richard sighed dramatically, clapping his cousin on the back. Darcy nearly jumped in surprise. "So give me an address then, girlie, we'll be your groupies," he demanded. Laughing, Eerin scribbled the location and time on the back of her receipt from Max Brenner with a dying felt tip and passed it back to him.

"You'll probably regret it, though. If you didn't like the music I was playing before, you won't like what we're going to play Saturday night," she warned. Richard waved her off.

"That doesn't matter. We'll be there to scream out your name and sleep with the drummer. We're groupies, we do that sort of shit," he assured her.

"The drummer is a man, Richard."

"Shut up, Darcy. When I set my mind to something, I'll go above and beyond the call of duty to do it," he stated firmly. "And anyway. I'll probably be too drunk to know what's what by that point," he added with a pleasant smile.

"Good to know. Now I'm going to try and get half an hour of sleep before I have to stand in front of a microphone for four hours," she decided, leaning back and placing her head in Carmen's lap, and her legs dangling over Richard and Darcy. They laughingly tried to push her off, but she poked a few bellies, and they allowed her to remain in her position.

Half an hour later they all stumbled off the ferry and towards Eerin's car, before stopping at the University where Carmen, Richard and Darcy were all parked.

"It was fun, you know," Darcy said suddenly, when passing Eerin the keys to her car. She raised a brow in surprise.

"Fun? Good Lord. I didn't know you knew the meaning of that word," she teased.

"I enjoyed myself. Thank you for introducing me to one of the best chocolate experiences I've ever had," he continued, with a small nod. She found herself smiling, and wasn't even sure why.

"It's Max Brenner. You're never going to get a better chocolate experience than Max Brenner," she laughed, before climbing into the front seat of her car. "See you, Pro – I mean, _Darcy_," she corrected herself, before giving him a nod and driving away.

Darcy sighed as he watched her go.

Chocolate and Eerin... there could not be a more wonderful way to spend a day than in the company of his two weaknesses. Particularly when he was able to hear teasing glimpses of experimental encounters of the feminine nature involving one of those weaknesses.

His sigh turned into a soft snigger. If Richard only knew he'd never hear the end of it.

* * *

"So? How did it go?" Richard demanded the moment Eerin had driven away and Carmen left.

"We... talked, enjoyed the chocolate, bonded, I suppose," Darcy shrugged, a small, silly smile on his lips. He dug his hands in his pockets and began to stroll over to where he was parked, humming to himself.

"Oh, wonderful. You're going to be all pleased and happy now. This is very inconvenient to me," Richard muttered dramatically with a roll of his eyes, following his cousin. "No action?"

"No, but I was quite pleased with the conversation. It was very... engaging," Darcy practically sniggered. Richard raised a brow in curiosity.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, and I'm not saying anything else," he finished firmly, before unlocking his car and sliding into the front seat. "She's... Richard, I'm crazy about her. I don't think I can hold out much longer," he said quite honestly, when his cousin joined him in the car.

"Hmm. From the amount of sighs and dreamy expressions I've seen since I've been here, I would say you're about at the end of your tether," he agreed. "We need to formulate a plan for you to have her wined, dined and bedded by the end of the week. I'm thinking a lot of alcohol," he said thoughtfully. Darcy rolled his eyes as they began driving.

"You know I can't... act on this. She's a student, she's over a dozen years younger than me, and I'll be moving back to England at the end of this year," he reminded him, sounding rather unconvinced himself. "And she's totally unsuitable for me. We're from completely different worlds, Richard," he sighed, a tinge of regret in his tone.

"That's bollocks. She's funny, clever, _gorgeous_, and she can stand up to our Aunt. She's _very_ suitable," he insisted firmly as Darcy slowed at the traffic lights. "And it's pretty clear you're in love with her," he added almost teasingly. Darcy's emerald eyes narrowed as he shot an angry glare to his cousin.

"I've known her for a little over two months, don't be a prat," he practically snapped.

"You're crazy for her, Darce. Admit it. And if you're not _in_ love, you're damned close to it," Richard insisted. Darcy opened his mouth to give an angry reply, but he stopped himself, and instead sighed wearily.

"I... I'm a little more than just 'close', Richard, if I wanted to be perfectly honest," he muttered reluctantly. "It's not – I'm not supposed to fall in love with someone like her. I need someone who can fit in with my life. She doesn't fit at all," he said with slight frustration.

"Where doesn't she fit? She's interested in symbols and history and old books like you, from what I can tell she loves England, and from what you've told me, her family wouldn't be sorry to lose her," Richard shrugged simply, as the lights changed and they sped up.

"Are you suggesting I take her back to England with me?"

"You're damned right I am. She's perfect for you," he replied cheerfully. "And she'll be great for Ana, too, just what she needs," he added. Darcy's eyes flickered with guilt.

"I owe Ana a mother. Eerin isn't; she could be, at best, a sister to her. Eerin is in need of a mother herself," he muttered.

"Darce, you don't _owe_ Ana anything, you _raised_ her from a baby! And you've done a damn good job, too!" Richard insisted firmly. "Ana needs a few more female friends, and yeah, maybe a sister. Just because you're a father to her doesn't mean Eerin has to be a mother," he objected. Darcy nodded slightly, but didn't reply. Richard sighed. "Listen, after all you've done for that kid... you deserve to be happy, cuz, and you _haven't_ for a long time. But Eerin is making a difference, I can see it already," he explained as gently as he could.

"There are... _so_ many obstacles I need to consider, Richard," was his cousin's response, after a short silence as he thought over the words. "And her sister is one of them," he reminded him. Richard made a quick intake of breath.

"Yeah. She's a bit of a cold fish, actually. I know _Chase_ is happy, but... do you really think it's a problem?" he questioned. Darcy thought on his words, before nodding.

"Yes. Chase is getting serious, _too_ serious, and I've not seen any real evidence that this girl likes him for anything but his bank balance."

"So what are you going to do?"

Darcy sighed thoughtfully, and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "Do I have any other options?" he questioned finally, almost _hopefully_, glancing to his cousin, who merely shrugged.

"Well... I'd advise you just talk to him. Let him know your concerns, and he can act if he wants," he reasoned simply. Darcy nodded thoughtfully.

"I suppose so. I'll speak to him in a few days," he agreed finally. Richard nodded.

"And you're sure about this?"

"The mother is mad, Richard, and the eldest is too stupid to really disobey her. I as good as heard it confirmed, and all her behaviour has led me to believe that she has no real feelings for him," he answered simply.

"It's a wonder Eerin turned out so well."

"She's too intelligent to be corrupted by such a horrible person," Darcy muttered, pulling into the resident's carpark of his apartment building. "She's young, sweet, well-meaning, but most of all, she's _clever_, and that's what's saved her," he explained.

"Does the age thing bother you?" Richard asked suddenly, as they climbed out of the car.

"Immensely," he confessed honestly, as they made their way to the lift. "How can it not? She's barely twenty, she's so... young. I wish she were a good ten years older, and then I wouldn't be so... concerned about this all," he muttered.

"Well, you've been doing the whole 'relationship, dating, sexing' thing for what, twenty-two years?"

"Not all of us lost our virginity at the age of thirteen, Richard."

"You were damned close to it when you popped your proverbial cherry," his cousin interrupted with a snigger. Darcy rolled his eyes. "I get the impression that she hasn't really _started_ the whole 'relationship, dating, sexing' thing yet," he rationalised. Darcy sighed with irritation, glaring at the little numbers atop the sliding lift doors, willing them to open in his flat immediately.

"Do you have a point, or did you just want to make me look like a cradle snatcher?"

"You've got the upper hand, with this whole age thing, Darce," his cousin explained finally. "Whilst she's a gorgeous girl, I don't think she has much experience with men. Which makes your job difficult in some respects, but easy in others," he encouraged him.

"I know," Darcy sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I adore her innocence, her youth, because I don't remember when I last possessed it. But it also makes me think I have a huge responsibility to her, and I don't feel up to more responsibility," he confessed, just as the doors opened, and they were able to walk right into his living room. "I'm going to have to teach her everything, and I'm simply not sure if I'm in a position to be doing that," he explained, tossing his laptop bag down on the lounge, his jacket following it.

"Stop pissing around. Do you want her?" Richard demanded finally, growing exasperated with his cousin's reluctance.

"I thought that was obvious," he drawled, seating himself in a large, comfortable armchair.

"In what capacity?"

"Companion, partner, lover, everything," he answered promptly.

"So what's stopping you?" Richard questioned, throwing himself down on the settee with his legs dangling over the side.

"Her family, I suppose. Her age bothers me, but not as much as her ridiculous connections," he admitted after some thought.

"And if you want her as your lover, wife, whatever –"

"Steady on there, Richard. I never mentioned marriage," Darcy warned. His cousin simply rolled his eyes and waved him off.

"The point is that you two will probably be in England by Christmas. Carmen said that she wants to live there one day, and she can't stand her parents anymore," he informed him. Darcy slowly nodded. "So when you're in England, her family won't matter. No one will even know," he reasoned.

"You have a point, you know," Darcy muttered finally. Richard gave a smug little smirk.

"I know. So what's holding you back now?" he questioned promptly.

"Her age, the fact that she's my _student_, and the expectations of friends and family," he listed. Richard waved him off again.

"Alright, we've already discussed the age thing, and your class only goes for one semester, two if she decides to take the extra class," he began. "Even if you started seeing each other while she was still your student, I doubt it'll be a problem, you can just keep it under wraps for a little while," he reasoned. "And you're not going to get approval from my parents and from our dear Auntie, no matter who you fall in love with, so there's no point worrying about it," he finished.

"You're destroying all my reasons for resisting this, you know," Darcy pointed out almost begrudgingly. Richard smirked.

"I know. You might as well go for it – tell her how you feel," he urged him. Darcy took a long breath, leaning forwards and holding his head with his hands.

"I don't think I have anymore choice in the matter. I don't think I could really live without her any longer," he said finally. "I physically _ache_ for her. And not just her body –"

"Hell, I've met her twice and _I _'ache' for her body," Richard sniggered, immediately shutting up when his cousin sent him a cold glare.

"I just want her to be close to me all the time. I want to be able to talk to her, to hold her, to comfort her, I know I sound ridiculous, but I'm so sick of being lonely, Richard," he muttered, slightly sadly, as he cast his eyes over his flat, as if mourning the lack of Eerin in his rooms.

"Hey, I understand. You're going soft on me. I'm glad you feel like this for another person, I'm pretty jealous," he laughed, swinging his legs over the edge of the sofa with great, slightly childish amusement.

"I think I – I need to tell her. We're not ready to move to England yet, but if I tell her now, by November we might be," he reasoned. Richard nodded.

"I'd advise you speak to her, the term break is coming up soon, right?" he questioned, to which his cousin replied with the affirmative. "Well, make sure you take advantage of the opportunity while you still can," he advised. Darcy looked thoughtful, and then finally nodded, but his face was still torn with consideration and thoughtfulness. "Now what are you going to do about this business with Chase?" he enquired. Darcy sighed.

"I have no other choice, really," he muttered simply. "But everything I've seen, and everything I've heard from the mother... there's no other option," he decided, before giving a long sigh.

"So you're going to speak to him about it?"

"I suppose I have to," he shrugged, standing up. "Now, I need to mark papers. Please don't break anything," he commanded, before strolling over to his study, and closing the door behind him.

Richard gave a slightly petulant puff. He _was_ jealous of his cousin, really. He'd never felt that connected to other human beings, but perhaps it would be... nice. After all, he _was_ getting older, nearing his forties...

He gave a smirk as he considered the fiery Italian he'd spent most of the morning with. Well, it might not be love, but it could certainly be fun.

**A/N: God, I hate summer. It's so damn **_**hot**_**. **

**I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the people who have been reviewing regularly and giving me their input, it really helps me not only with my writing, but also makes me feel warm and fluffy and loved. So thank you, my lovelies! **

**PS: No offence to anyone who likes Twilight. Or disapproves of Eerin's romantic history. If you're offended by Eerin's outward dislike of Twilight, then I apologise. But I really don't want any flames or criticisms of a discriminatory nature for same-sex relationships. It's not a huge part of this story, but I'm not changing it. **


	14. Of Lies and Letters

"_Playing with fire,_

_You know you're gonna hurt somebody tonight,_

_And you're out on the wire,_

_You know you're playing with fire,_"

-Brandon Flowers, 'Playing with Fire'

"It has to be done."

"Carol, I am well aware of what has to be done," Darcy snapped, staring out to the blue-grey waters of the harbour from the balcony of Chase's flat.

"Well you look like you're reconsidering, and he'll be home in a few minutes. We can't have you backing out now," she replied coolly, sipping from a mid-afternoon cocktail as she lowered her Versace sunglasses for a moment to regard him with suspicion. "You're jumpy. Is it just nerves, or is something else bothering you?" she demanded.

"Nothing that concerns _you_, Carol."

"Hmm. It's that little chit again," she huffed pointedly. "What, is she straying from your bed already? Young girls have such a small attention span, you'd best cast her off," she instructed firmly. Darcy rolled his eyes, but as his back was turned, his irritation was lost on her.

"Nothing is going on between Miss Beaumont and I, Carol," he said calmly.

"Go on, admit it. You're infatuated with that slip of a thing, and you can't deny it, not to _me_," she challenged. "Why don't you just make her your mistress? The sooner you do the sooner you'll be over her, and the sooner you can accept your _real_ obligations," she said with a venomous tone.

"My personal relationships are hardly a matter of your concern, Carol, so I would advise you keep your nose out of it," he commanded, just as they were greeted with the sound of the door opening and Chase returning.

"Hullo there you two, having fun?" he questioned with a broad smile, sitting himself down at the outdoors setting and taking a handful of grapes from the bowl before him.

"Chase, Darcy and I have something very serious we need to discuss with you," Carol declared instantly. Her brother rolled his eyes.

"Of course, Carol. I'm used to your tirades," he laughed.

"Chase, this is _very_ serious. It's about Jannali," she snapped. He stopped laughing, and lowered the handful of grapes, glancing to Darcy with a slight frown, but he remained facing the harbour.

"What is it?" he questioned unsurely, drawing out his words as if he were afraid of an answer.

"Chase, you have a responsibility, you've known this all your life. You have a responsibility to the family, to the name, to our reputation, to the company, you have a responsibility and you've been ignoring it for about five years – it's time you made up for that," she began briskly, lowering her sunglasses to glare at her brother with force. He swallowed.

"Dad doesn't need me. He's got plenty of people to run the company, and I need to look after the Australian branch," he managed to get out, already sounding wary.

"Well it's not just that, Chase," Carol replied, before he could continue. "You've reached an age where it's expected that you settle down with a nice, _suitable_ woman, of your own sphere," she continued in a very business-like manner.

"Well, I know it's not been long... but I think I'm getting quite serious about Jannali, she's so perfect," he sighed, his eyes lighting up with naïve eagerness.

"She's far from perfect, Chase, and you'd have to be as stupid as she is not to realise that," she snapped. "Jannali is unsuitable. She comes from a poor, working family who live in the sticks, her job is all well and good but not good enough to recommend herself to the higher social circles, not to mention the fact that she's dim, too dim to go against her mother's desire for her to find a wealthy husband, and on top of all that, she's Australian," she listed coldly. Chase scowled.

"Just because she's Australian doesn't mean –"

"Come, Chase, you _know_ she would never be accepted back in England, not with _our_ kind," she said briskly. Chase paled and frowned.

"Well that doesn't matter, because I'm not moving back to England, I love it here and I love Jan, so there's nothing you can say to make me change my mind," he declared factually. Carol raised an over-plucked brow in accusation.

"Oh really? You know everything I said was true, Chase, and you _know_ that she's only in this for the money," she replied. "She'll marry you, then get a divorce and take half of everything. She's not worth it, you'll never be happy," she warned.

"Dammit, Carol, I don't need you to tell me how to run my life!" he snapped angrily, slamming his fist on the side of the table. Cutlery and glasses shuddered, but remained stationary. "I don't care what you think, I never have and I never _will_!"

"Chase, it's not just me that thinks it," she snapped. "Darcy knows this is ridiculous too. If you're not going to listen to _me_, then at least listen to _him_!" she objected.

Chase turned; his face ashen and filled with fear as he stared at his friend's back.

"Darcy?" he swallowed. "Do you really think that?"

Darcy's shoulders fell slightly, and a soft sigh could be heard, but he did not turn.

"She's by no means clever, Chase, and the mother is a lunatic. Jannali is sweet, but she's acting on her mother's wishes. Carol is right," he said quietly, but Chase heard the words all too clearly.

"No. No, you're wrong. I love her," he insisted, his voice choked and strained.

"She doesn't love you, Chase. You must be able to see it, she just wants what her mother told her to get – money," he sighed.

"You're _lying_!"

Darcy turned; his face serious, but filled with pity for his friend.

"When have I ever lied to you, Chase?" he questioned.

Chase practically trembled. He stood up, and stormed off the balcony in a sudden paroxysm of anger. Darcy watched him go, feeling guilty for causing his friend pain, but knowing that it was for the better.

"He'll break it off with her," Carol stated needlessly. Darcy nodded. "Don't pity him _or_ yourself. He made the stupid decision, now he has to fix his own mistakes," she said sternly.

"I know this is the right thing, Carol, but you must be a heartless creature not to at least feel pity for your own brother," he snapped, leaving the balcony. He didn't go to find Chase – he knew it would be some time before he had cooled off. Instead he went home.

Boots wound his way around his legs as he opened the front door. His grey tortoiseshell cat had been with him for a few years now, since she became a birthday present for a very eager Ana. Due to Ana's accommodations at University, Boots had somehow ended up with him in Australia, despite the fact that she did _not_ agree with Australian weather.

"Hush, Boots, you've already been fed," he said sternly to the feline, who purred by his feet, almost petulantly. She stared up at him with a slightly peeved expression, before stalking off to her own private corner, irritated with his denial of food. He chuckled, but he was quite used to it.

He discovered within a few moments that Richard was out (probably chasing some woman or other), and that he was expected to dine with his Aunt again, after a rather painful answering machine message. He sighed, and ran a hand through his dark hair.

His flat felt empty and alone as he wandered aimlessly into the kitchen. He felt a jolt as he recalled his dream of seeing Eerin cooking there, a smile on her face and ready kisses to bestow.

He wished he could just speak to her. Have her near for a few hours, just talking... that was all he needed, for now. Just _her_ there with him.

It struck him how desperately lonely he had become over the years. It had just been he and Ana for most of the time, there had been women, of course, but not even Laura was really worth a mention, there had never been anyone that he had shared his life with completely, and he was reaching a point of desperation to feel that connection with another human being. He _needed_ it.

He had realised quite some time ago that he was perhaps using Eerin as some sort of replacement for all the things he had missed out on for the past eighteen years. She was who he had wanted to be in his youth, before it was cruelly snatched up and adulthood thrust upon him.

His feelings for the girl had come on too swiftly for it to be just _her_ that he longed for. And after eighteen years of denying himself what he wanted, didn't he deserve her? Didn't he deserve everything that was wonderful about Eerin Beaumont in his life? Her youth? Her vibrancy, her fire?

He wanted her in his life. He had decided that before he'd even met her, it seemed. He was sick of being lonely and selfless and reserved; he no longer wanted to play the quiet, brooding professor figure. It didn't suit him. He knew that perhaps there was an unhealthy element to any relationship with Eerin Beaumont, but dammit, he didn't care. He wanted her in his life.

"Well, Boots, hopefully..." he muttered quietly as his cat decided to make another appearance. Boots just blinked, as if to say, 'hurry up about it then'.

He smiled.

* * *

"So. How are your classes?" came a bored, forced question from behind one of the towering bookcases as Eerin selected a well-worn copy of Plato's _Republic_ from her father's large collection.

"Fine, Dad," she chuckled, slightly amused at his attempt to bond with his daughter. He sounded awkward, and it was obvious he didn't really care, but was more interested in filling some sort of monthly quota.

"Good. That's... good," he muttered.

"It's alright. I'll tell Mum we connected," she assured him. He gave a relieved smile sigh.

"Good. Tell her I'll be up for dinner, too," he requested. She nodded, taking the book, and a few others she had decided to read (or re-read, or re-re-read, as it were), and making her way out of the dangerously disorganised library/shed.

She hummed thoughtfully to herself as she made her way back up to the house. She had been feeling rather... confused of late. After finding herself unexpectedly enjoying herself the other day at lunch with her Professor, her emotions were unidentifiable to her.

Why was Darcy so... confusing? He was at times, a horrific prick, and she couldn't stand him, but whenever they were alone he was... well, different. What did it mean? And what did _he_ mean to _her?_ She sensed herself falling into the pattern that she always did, liking someone she couldn't have, and agonising over it for months, having her heart broken over and over again. She didn't want to break her heart over her professor, it was stupid, and she felt like at twenty years of age, it was about time she stepped out of her cycle.

She endeavoured not to like Professor Darcy. She didn't want him, she didn't need him, she focused on his flaws as if it were all he had. And, as she thought about it, it seemed like flaws really _did_ make up the majority of his personality. He was disagreeable and rude and a bully.

So why did he make her feel so... strange? She was drawn to him, and she couldn't even understand why. Was it simply the remaining tenderness she had felt towards him when she was a teenager, and he was just a handsome, academic celebrity who she could fix her adolescent desires and frustrations on? She found it difficult to separate the two Darcys, but now it was almost as if there was a third; a cheeky, charming older man who had spent the afternoon with her, teasing her about her sexual history and sharing a delicious chocolate experience. She had always been drawn to older men who could balance out her last unstable clutches on her childhood. She just didn't want to be hurt by having feelings for him which would only lead to pain and awkwardness.

She sighed as she tossed the books down on her bed, before noticing the dull buzzing as her phone vibrated on her bedside table.

She picked it up, only to see there were four missed calls, and two voicemail messages. Frowning, she called her inbox, wondering who was so desperate to contact her.

'_Rin, it's me,'_ began Jan's voice. Only, it sounded... different. '_I really need to talk to you right now. It's about Chase. He – he – he broke up with me, Eerin. I really just – I need to talk to you. Please call me when you get this message,_' the voice begged. The next message said the same thing.

Blood pounding in her ears, Eerin rung her elder sister with haste, desperately running scenarios in her head where Chase had gone completely mad and couldn't realise what a wonderful girl her sister was. It couldn't be true; Chase was head over heels for Jan, she'd seen it. So what the hell was going on?

"Jannali? Jan? It's me, Eerin," she blurted out the moment the phone was answered.

"Hey, Rin," sniffled Jan, her voice quiet and... defeated.

"I got your message. What's happened?" she demanded instantly, finding herself pacing and not really knowing why.

"Umm, Chase was over a little while ago. He said he wanted us to see other people – he said that – that 'we' weren't working, that I wasn't taking it seriously enough, that I..." it was here she choked up. "That I only wanted his – his _money_, and – and I didn't care about him a – at all," she whimpered. Eerin was instantly filled with anger.

"What the _fuck_? What's his problem! You're perfect, how the hell can he think otherwise?" she questioned incredulously.

"Please, Rin, I don't want to – I – I can't be alone right now," she muttered weakly.

"Of course. I'll grab some stuff and I'll be over soon, I'll bring Car too," she decided firmly.

"Rin, the – there's something else."

"What is it, babe?" Eerin questioned quickly, her mind racing furiously as she contemplated how she was going to dismember Chase.

"I – I think I'm pregnant."

Eerin's thoughts stopped.

"Alright. We'll talk about this when I get there," she recalled herself saying, but it was as if her mouth were working by itself. As if it were a machine. She heard Jan sigh gratefully.

"Thank you, Rinny. I just – I really need you now."

"That's fine, and I won't tell Mum about it yet, either. Lord knows how she'd react," she replied, wincing as the thought of Fiona's angry shrieks.

"That's probably for the best. I'll see you soon, Rin," Jan replied with a sniffle.

"Of course, babe. Eat some ice-cream and I'll be there in an hour, armed with chocolate," she assured her, before giving her goodbyes.

Eerin lowered her phone, and tried to calm herself, not even realising that she had been breathing harshly, her heart racing. She was pissed. How could Chase, who seemed so wonderful, say such _horrible_ things, and abandon his child? It was impossible! He was so lovely, what made him turn into such a prick? Did he even _know_ she might be pregnant?

She reluctantly reminded herself as she pulled a few changes of clothes out from her wardrobe, that anger was not what Jan needed right now. She endeavoured to calm herself and be the supportive, understanding sister that was necessary for the situation.

Ripping Chase Bingley's balls out and making him eat them would come later.

* * *

"Oh. Hullo," Darcy greeted with surprise, bumping into his favourite student as he left his office at the university campus. "Were you, uh – coming to see me?" he questioned, gesturing to his office door. Eerin shook her head.

He didn't want to admit that he was disappointed, so instead distracted himself with how lovely she looked. But then again, he reminded himself, she was _always_ looking lovely. She wore a pair of skinny leg pale denim jeans and a t-shirt that was a little tight for him to be comfortable with, particularly with the rather distracting picture of a cassette across the bust, and the tempting slither of skin it provided around her hips. She wore the same jacket the had when she first stepped into his classroom, reminding him of how at first glance he had found her barely pretty. It was a strange contrast to how he saw her now.

"No, I was just walking," she shrugged, looking somewhat distracted.

"Ah. Anywhere you need to be?" he enquired. She shook her head once more.

"No, not especially. I just had a lecture, thought I might get something to eat before I go to band practise," she shrugged.

"I was thinking the same thing, sans the band," he replied with a charming smile. "I discovered the nearest Max Brenner to here. You look a little miserable, perhaps some chocolate will help," he offered. She forced a small smile, and glanced at her watch.

"Uhh, I don't know. I don't have a lot of time," she muttered.

"I won't keep you," he assured her. She sighed, and finally nodded. "So I've noticed the weather evolving to something reasonably tolerable," he commented. She shrugged.

"Define 'tolerable'."

"Well, when it reached forty-two on one of my first days in this country with the humidity at unbearable levels, I was definitely thinking it out of the ordinary," he replied. She gave a small laugh.

"Yeah, in a bad summer it can get even higher, but it depends where you are. And it's the humidity that kills you," she shrugged. "But around March it starts to settle. I hate the heat, but I find it very difficult to deal with the cold. I'm just lucky I was only in England when it was warm," she informed him.

"You were mostly in southern regions, weren't you?"

"Yeah, for the most part. I only went to the North once or twice, in the summer."

"Well then, I don't know how you could handle a Derbyshire winter. It's very harsh," he commented, before realising with a start that he had perhaps been a little _too_ obvious for just a second. Luckily, she didn't notice his slip.

"Well considering I think anything in the twenties merits a cardigan and perhaps a scarf, I would say I couldn't do it," she laughed, as they crossed the road.

"So how have you been?" he questioned, startling her with what sounded like... _sincerity_ in his voice.

"Um, I'm alright, I guess. I'm kipping with Jan again, which is good because the band and I have to practise like crazy for our gig tomorrow night," she shrugged simply.

"Ah yes, Richard has demanded that he and I both be in attendance. He doesn't miss an opportunity to drink," he joked.

"He's very different to you," she stated suddenly, almost starling him with her frank tone.

"I thought we'd already covered that topic," he chuckled. She shrugged. "But nevertheless, we've always gotten along well, ever since we were children. He was like an older brother to me, but not exactly a wiser one," he explained. She slowly nodded, as if considering something.

"But you're closer with your sister?"

"Hmm. I raised Ana, I just saw Richard during the holidays. There is a little more opportunity to bond when you're teaching the individual to walk," he reasoned with a slight shrug.

"How old was she when –"

"Ten months," he answered immediately. "I had help, of course, the housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds, was of great assistance, and my schedule at Oxford was flexible enough to allow me to spend most of my time with her," he shrugged, staring ahead with determination. "Although, every now and then, I did have to bring her into class with me. My professors were remarkably lenient, and didn't mind that I had a sleeping baby sitting on my lap when they were trying to teach," he added.

"I bet it got the girls though," she commented with a slight smirk, sounding the closest to her normal self that she had all day. He chuckled.

"Uhh... Yes, I suppose it did," he admitted with a slight blush. "Not that I used my baby sister to attract women," he assured her suddenly. She laughed.

"_Sure_..." she muttered, her dark eyes twinkling.

"You'd have me seen in quite a bad light, Eerin," he chuckled. She shrugged.

"Richard already beat me to that mark. He tried to fill my head with all sorts of sordid tales about you, sir," she teased. Darcy groaned playfully.

"Good lord, I wouldn't trust a word he says. He enjoys portraying me as quite a Don Juan, he seems to think if he blackens my name his will clean up, just a little," he laughed.

"Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me," she replied, her dark eyes twinkling. Darcy scoffed.

"I have no secrets."

"Of course, sir," she sighed, a tiny smile playing on her lips. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the grin on his face. He was about to enquire about what Richard had told her before she spoke again. "So you were sixteen, right?" she questioned curiously. He nodded.

"I began university when I was sixteen, turning seventeen, or else I would have had to leave school. I couldn't look after her when I was at Eton," he explained. She raised a brow with surprise.

"Wow. Sixteen? I was seventeen turning eighteen when I started uni, and even that was supposed to be young," she said with surprise. He shrugged.

"I worked hard to get into Oxford early. I had no other options, if I couldn't be there all the time I'd lose her," he informed her simply. There was no pain in his statement, but then again, there was very little emotion in his tone, no matter _what_ he was speaking of.

"So... when you were my age, you were going to university full-time, as well as raising a little girl?" she questioned in disbelief.

"When I was your age, I had just completed my first double degree, published about a dozen papers and articles, and Ana was around four years old," he replied diligently. She muttered something that might have been a '_wow_'.

"This might be a little personal, but does she consider you a father or a brother?" she asked finally, after a short silence had fallen over them.

"I was 'Daddy' before she hit her 'Princess' stage. I didn't tell her that I wasn't her father until she was about twelve, it was a little... well, she wouldn't understand. She was young, and I wanted to save her the pain of never having parents," he shrugged, giving a slightly pained smile. Eerin's eyes instantly softened.

"That must have been hard," she muttered. He shrugged.

"She still calls me 'dad' every now and then. I think she does still see me as her father. But she's never known the distinction between a sibling and a parent," he explained. "And furthermore, to make things even more confusing, I consider myself her father, but it's just been her and I for so long that I suppose I've just taken that place in her life, and she's taken the place of a daughter in mine," he continued.

"Oh... Jeez, I'm sorry," she muttered, lowering her dark eyes. He laughed.

"What do you have to be sorry for? I did what I had to do, and there's very little I would change. I learnt a lot," he assured her. "Not many men my age can claim to have been single parents for the past eighteen years. It separates me from the crowd, at least," he smiled simply.

"So you're seeing her these holidays?" she questioned. He nodded.

"I've made enquiries about a place in Port Stephens, like you recommended, I think I'll just rent it out for the break and let her enjoy herself by the beach," he replied. "And have you formed any plans yet?"

"Not really. I _was_ thinking of travelling a bit, but I'd rather save up and go someplace really far away, not just New Zealand or something," she shrugged, as they entered the Newtown Max Brenner.

They didn't say much as they found some seats and ordered. Eerin got an Italian hot chocolate and Darcy a coffee, both deciding that the rich foods would be a little too much for them.

"I really shouldn't be having chocolate. It's bad for your voice, and I'm going to be singing all afternoon," she sighed, after lowering her hug mug. Not having taken her clothes off for any of the workers at that particular café, she didn't want to brave getting a kangaroo mug for fear of decline.

"You've been with the band a long time, haven't you?"

"Since I was thirteen," she shrugged. "I was in year eight or nine or something, and Hamish was in his last year. I was mostly doing classical back then, and he heard me singing and discovered I could play a few instruments, so invited me into his band," she explained. He listened with interest. "Anyway, after a few months we decided that it worked and that I was going to stick around in the band, but it was really hard, doing gigs and that, because I was so young and no one would let a thirteen year old into their pubs," she continued.

"Thus explaining the heels and makeup your friend mentioned," Darcy recalled. She laughed, and nodded.

"Yeah, it never worked because I _still_ look thirteen even now, but we'd started to get a little following with the locals, so they stopped caring and let me in," she informed him with a laugh. "Anyway, it's not something major for any of us, it's just a hobby. We don't expect it to go anywhere, we have a good online following, and we make a little money from it, which is good," she shrugged.

"Do you write a lot of the songs?"

"Uh, some, but Hamish writes so many all the time that we mostly play his. Which is good, because mine aren't that great," she laughed modestly, with flushing pink cheeks. He smiled.

"That's a lie. I enjoyed the one you sung at your birthday party," he teased. The slightest of flushes rose to her cheeks, and she sipped her chocolate to avoid responding. "So you don't think you'll take the band anywhere?" he probed, when he knew she wasn't going to reply.

"Not really. I used to, but now I don't even think it's what I want," she replied simply. "I mean, I love it, but we've all got lives now. Kerry has a wife and two kids, so we all have priorities," she explained. "But it keeps us sane, I reckon. Last year we thought we were going to break up, some things were happening in Hamish's life that... well, his story, now mine," she muttered, stopping herself before she revealed too much. "Anyway, we nearly broke up, but we clung together again after, and it's a really good way to support each other," she explained.

"It's good you have that sort of outlet."

"Yeah, I'd be walking up walls if I couldn't play music," she chuckled, taking another mouthful of hot chocolate.

Darcy tried not to stare at her as he sipped his own coffee. She just looked so... lovely. He wondered if it was the right moment to just _say_ how he felt. How would she react? Would she be afraid, or excited?

He spent so long wondering if he should be honest with her, that by the time he'd made up his mind to do something about his growing attraction that had been building up for almost two months; she announced that she needed to be getting to band practise.

"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow night," he said, at a lack of anything better to say. She nodded.

"I guess so. See you, Darcy," she muttered, swinging her bag over her shoulder and leaving him sitting by himself in the café.

When she had gone he stared down at his coffee thoughtfully.

Seeing her hadn't made him feel any better about the situation with Jannali. He pulled from his pocket the letter the girl had desperately given him earlier, filled with all sorts of desperate, upset words in an attempt to get Chase back. He was angry with Jannali for making such pathetic attempts to ensnare his friend – a faked pregnancy was a stroke of genius, but it _wasn't _going to work on him. He felt a tinge of guilt, but Jannali and Eerin were so different he knew he could do what he had to without remorse.

He slowly drained the last of his coffee, wondering if there was ever going to be a perfect moment to tell Eerin how he felt, or if he even should.

Knowing his propensity to put things he didn't think he should be doing off, he decided that he would tell her the next time he saw her. He couldn't stand being in limbo one more second, so it was about time he did something about his situation. He rose to his feet and swung his laptop bag over his shoulder. He threw the letter in the bin as he left the café, determined not to let it get to him.

He was doing it for Chase, and that was the important thing.

* * *

It was an aching feeling.

Jan rolled over in bed, two golden hands clasped together atop the rumpled white sheets. She felt a tear roll over her cheek, but she ignored it. She had taken to ignoring everything for the past few days.

Days? Had it really only been _days_ since this horrible aching had begun? It felt more like months... But then again, with Chase, every second was like a century, but the passing of time had never been so precious to her. It took only a few seconds to fall for him completely, more than she had ever let herself fall. And now what was going to happen to her? She was alone, completely alone with a baby on the way, a little life that she had to care for, and she had _no_ idea what to do.

_You're so stupid_, a little voice said in the back of her troubled mind. _You let him in, you let yourself love him, you were weak and now you deserve what's happened_, that voice seemed to say. And she wanted to argue with it, she wanted to fight, but she had never been strong, not like her sister.

Eerin had the right idea. Don't get too involved with anyone, be it a lover or a friend or even a sister, because it would only burn you in the end. She didn't let anyone in, and she was all the better for it; she was happy. So _why_ couldn't she do it too? Why couldn't she be strong like her?

_Because_, the voice continued, _you're weak, and you know it. You've never been the clever one, you're just the pretty idiot that people want for one thing_.

"Stop it," she begged aloud, her voice choked with tears. Her shoulders shook and her entire body ached with pain. "Just _stop_ it!" she commanded.

_This is all you're going to have left – aching. Because _you_ screwed up, you let yourself be hurt and now you have to deal with this_.

But she didn't want to deal with it. Because if she dealt with it, she might get over it, and then what would she have left? A space in her bed where he would lay, between her fingers where he would clasp her hand, and in her heart? How had he crept his way into her heart in such little time?

_And why_, whispered the voice_, couldn't you show him how much he meant to you_?

She had tried. She had truly tried – she'd called his mobile but it was always turned off, she had called the landline but it always went to machine, she had even tried to storm into his flat, full of righteous anger and tell him just what he meant to her. She'd written a letter and pressed it into Darcy's hands, begging him to deliver it to his friend. It was all she could do, and it was never, _never_ going to be enough to bring him back, not even his child would bring Chase back to her.

She rolled over in bed.

It was an aching feeling.

**A/N: Yes, the inevitable has struck. I told you I was going to put a twist on it, didn't I?**

**So, I've been receiving a lot of reviews claiming some of my characters are flat. I've been attempting to improve things a little, but the problem is that for most of these characters, their real development comes later in the fic. But I still really appreciate any tips and ideas you might have for me for the sake of the development of this story. **

**Justlyodd: I'm surprised that you think Eerin and Darcy are too 'perfect', as I feel that out of all my protagonists (aside from Eli, who I don't like at all), these are the most realistic. I usually explore an underlying issue in each of my fics, and for at least two stories the major theme has been immaturity (Sweet Lolita and SYCMIOYO, possibly Love and Other Labels too), but I don't have an issue that's as evident in this fic. Insecurity comes later, but it's not as major as it was in The Hill. Regardless, I wanted to make this fic a little more lighthearted, but I never intended to make perfect characters. **

**In terms of Eerin's character, I can understand why you feel she's been portrayed as unrealistically beautiful, but if you go back to the first chapter, Darcy didn't think she was attractive. She's not beautiful, but most of her character descriptions come from Darcy himself, and he's kind of prejudiced in that respect. **

**I admit, I did sort of make her what certain people would call 'indie', in the respects that she's probably a bit kookier than most of the other Elizabeth Bennets I've had (except Loli. I don't think you can get any kookier than that). By the way, Juno isn't 'indie'. I apologise to anyone who likes that movie, but Juno is an awful attempt at capturing youth that to me, screams hipster. The hamburger phone was too much. I don't think I would ever model a character after Juno, but I'm not... trying to make my characters indie. It's difficult to explain. I want Eerin to have personality and be independent, but not 'indie' as such, because that to me seems too fake. She's **_**seen**_** as indie, but she would never describe herself as such, if that makes any sense. Indie isn't anything, though. It's just a word that people use sometimes that inevitably leads to labels and boxes, which neither I, nor Eerin (were she real, and all) is a fan of. **

**She doesn't wear baggy clothing to be fashionable, can I say this now. The very clever Sonya ( asian invasion 0530 ) was the first person to notice it; Eerin has, or had an eating disorder that comes up later in the story. So she wears baggy clothing to hide her insecurities, not hide her beauty. **

**I laughed when you said you think Darcy is Humbert Humbert. Looking back, maybe he is. I dunno, but as an individual who absolutely adores Lolita, and Nabokov in general, I think there are a lot of differences. But anyway, yes, age is always an issue in my fics. I have a predisposition to admire relationships with large age gaps; eighteen years between my mummy and daddy, you see. But perhaps this relationship is a bit more unhealthy than the others. I dunno, we'll see. **

**And lastly, because this is a ridiculously long author's note, I love your objectiveness. Seriously, I really enjoy it when I get very good, constructive criticism, and several of my lovely reviewers give me regular, very informative doses of that, which helps the story progress. I was in no way offended, rather very pleased, so thank you :D**


	15. Of Admissions and Ambulances

"_I see those snakes come through the ground; they choke me to the bone,_

_They tie me to a wooden chair, here are all my songs_

_So come on love, draw your swords, I'll shoot them to the ground,_

_You are mine, I am yours; let's not fuck around,_"

-Angus & Julia Stone, 'Draw Your Swords'

"Hey. She didn't come, did she?" Eerin questioned Carmen hurriedly when she stepped off the stage after her band's set was completed. The pub was crowded and the souvenir shirts, badges and CDs were selling fast – but that was the last thing on her mind.

"No, she said I made her stay at home," she answered. Eerin sighed, and ran a hand through her dark hair.

"Good. I'm still so pissed about this. I know it's been a few days, but... damn, she looked so helpless when she said she wanted to go tonight," she muttered angrily. Carmen shrugged.

"It was just one fight, Rin. They'll get over it. He'll come back for the kid," she insisted.

"Jan doesn't _do_ fights, you know she doesn't. She's so eager to please, she'll just let Chase do whatever he wants and she'll be screwed over again, and she _can't_ do that, not with this kid on the way," Eerin snapped. "I need a drink," she muttered finally.

"You guys sounded great tonight, you know," Carmen informed her. She shrugged.

"I guess I sort of channelled my pent up frustration about Chase-the-Prat," she offered simply.

"Good show. The band gets drinks on the house," the bartender informed her with a wink, when she ordered a vodka and lemonade.

"Richard and Darcy turned up, you know. They've got a table in the corner, I was with them," Carmen informed her, as Eerin swallowed the drink down with a grimace. It was instantly filled by the bartender. "I think they were impressed. Darcy didn't take his eyes off you," she continued, but Eerin took no notice.

"Where's Hamish?"

"I'm not sure. He was a bit choked up by that set, wasn't he? I thought he'd start crying," she commented, glancing around the room. "Oh look, he's talking to Darcy and Richard," she said suddenly. Eerin turned, and immediately frowned.

"That's not Hamish. That's Graham," she mumbled with a strong tone of dread. Carmen's eyes went wide.

"Shit, Rin, I thought you told him it was over!"

"I know. I might as well go tell him to bugger off, I can't deal with him right now," she muttered, taking her drink and crossing the room, winding through dancing couples and drunkards who all wanted to congratulate her. They arrived at the booth just in time to see Darcy practically roar something at Graham and throw him up against a wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eerin cried in shock, passing Carmen her drink and attempting to pull Darcy off him.

"Eerin, leave it, seriously, this guy deserves everything that –" Richard tried to begin, but Eerin silenced him with an angry glare.

"Darcy! You're going to get kicked out!" she shouted, banging her small fists harmlessly against his back. Giving up on that, she wormed her way between the two, and with one mighty push, managed to separate them. Darcy's eyes were dark and filled with fury; Graham was smirking and sniggering pathetically, despite having a swollen cheek and a bleeding lip.

"See? Guess who she's come to save," he practically giggled.

"Get the hell out of here, Graham!" she snapped, turning around with fire in her eyes. His attitude was disgusting – so what if Darcy might have pushed him up against a wall, it didn't give him reason to jeer!

"Eerin?"

"Get lost, Graham. I can't deal with you right now," she said firmly. Graham gave Darcy a bitter glare.

"Fine. I'll call you," he muttered, moving forwards to give her a kiss. She turned away. He made a bitter laugh, rolled his eyes, tossed his jacket over his shoulder and left the bar.

"Eerin, you could have hurt yourself," Darcy snapped finally, breaking the tension between them.

"How the hell could you be so _stupid_?" she questioned incredulously. "What the fuck did he do to _you_?" she demanded. Darcy sourly looked away. The playful, amusing man she'd had lunch with was gone, replaced with the cold, cruel Professor W. F. Darcy she knew and hated.

"Eerin, leave it. There's shit you don't know," Richard muttered quietly. She crossed her arms and continued to glare at Darcy.

"I don't care. Are you fucking bi-polar or something? I can't believe –" she stopped herself with an angry sigh, and accepted her drink back off Carmen. "I have to go get drunk with my bandmates. Sort of a ridiculous tradition, but it makes more sense than _some_ idiots around here," she muttered finally, winding through the crowds in search of Hamish, Paul, Kerry and Marshall.

"What the hell was _that_ about?" Carmen exclaimed. Richard sighed.

"Darce, just sit down, finish your drink," he urged his cousin.

"I'm leaving. I'll walk home, I need to think," he muttered, grabbing his coat and storming out of the pub as soon as he could. Carmen watched him go in shock.

"What's got _his_ undies in a twist?" she questioned in disbelief.

"He and Wickham don't have a good history, that's all," Richard shrugged. Carmen nodded slowly, knowing full well what Eerin had told her about Graham and Darcy's dealings. "Come on then, let's just get drunk. He'll be fine by himself for a few hours," he sighed finally, taking his seat back in the booth. Carmen sipped her cocktail, unable to fight sense of concern and suspicion.

She had a very strong feeling there was more to Graham Wickham and William Darcy's history than was being let on.

* * *

"Eerin. I need to talk with you," came a sudden, firm voice about an hour or two after the altercation. She turned from her destination – the bar, for her ninth or tenth drink – to see a frowning Richard standing behind her.

"What's up?" she questioned. He sighed.

"Not here. Let's just go outside of something," he suggested. Feeling slightly perturbed, Eerin led him out to the street just outside of the pub. A few smokers stood by the road, stumbling slightly with the effects of alcohol, but they managed to find a small bench across the road and took a seat.

"What's this about? Darcy?" she questioned with a frown. Richard nodded, digging his hands into his pockets, watching the cars revving up and down the street as people drunkenly jeered around them.

"Listen, I know it seemed like he just tried to beat up Wickham for no reason, but Graham came up and started saying all sorts of terrible stuff about you, and he mentioned some... other things that have happened," he began slowly. "He was pretty much gloating. He figured that Darcy would never react, so he was safe to say what he wanted. But Darcy doesn't have the best of tempers," he explained. Eerin snorted.

"Oh really? Haven't heard _that_ before," she muttered bitterly, staring back at the pub with a scowl on her face as she recalled the incident.

"Darcy never did anything to hurt Graham. He's a good guy, Rin. He's always there for his friends. He's the most loyal and noble man I've ever met," he insisted. Eerin rolled her eyes. "I don't know what Graham's told you, but he's no good. Take it from me. _Darcy_ is the good guy in this," he assured her.

"If he's the good guy, then why wasn't _he_ being pushed against a wall in some grimy pub? Why isn't _he_ backpacking around the world because he can't afford a home?" she demanded with frustration. Richard sighed.

"You're just being stupid now, Rin. You're looking for reasons to hate Darcy," he scolded her. She lowered his eyes. "He's always helping people. I mean, where the hell would I be without him? Or Ana? Where would Chase be without him? He's invaluable to have around, Eerin," he insisted.

"What do you mean?"

"He's always helping me, Chase, everyone. I mean, he just stopped Chase from making an idiot out of himself with – oh bollocks," Richard muttered suddenly, stopping himself when he recalled the relation between Chase's girlfriend and Eerin. She looked up with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"I – Is Darcy the one that made Chase say all those things to Jan?" she questioned with a trembling voice. Richard cursed himself, leaning forwards and resting his head against his palms.

"Fuck it. You weren't supposed to know – he only did it to help Chase, Rin. He's a good friend," he insisted passionately.

"Chase said my sister was a gold digger! He said she – she only wanted him for his money!" she cried angrily, standing and slowly stepping backwards, away from Richard with wild, fearful eyes. "He's broken her _heart_, Richard! My sister, who would never hurt another human being, is at home right now crying her bloody eyes out because some stupid _fuck_ told her boyfriend that she only wanted his money! And now she has to raise his child _alone_ because he's such a fucking _bastard_!" she shouted, unable to hide the hurt and anger from her voice.

"He only did it for Chase, Eerin. He thought it was best, and you can't even be sure there _is_ a kid," Richard sighed.

"Don't you _dare, _Richard. My sister would _never _lie," she practically growled. "He's destroyed my sister's relationship! He – how could he _do_ that to her? To _Chase_? I'm going to fucking kill him!" she snapped.

"Eerin, you can't tell him that I told you," Richard pleaded. "Seriously. Forget about it. If you want to hate him, then hate him, but don't bring this up. Please," he begged. Eerin counted to ten in her head, like she'd been taught to do when dealing with anger.

"I won't bring it up unless I have to, Richard, but I am _not_ going to talk to that man again. I hate him. I despise him. I just hope he goes back to his own damn country and never comes back again!" she cried angrily.

"Eerin, please, just calm down," he instructed as gently as he could.

"I _am_ calm! Fuck off, Richard, I don't want to talk with you right now," she snapped, turning heel suddenly to face the road, where young men in cars were still trying to drunkenly impress those around them with the sounds of their engines.

She stepped right into the side of a moving car.

* * *

Carmen hardly heard the screech of tyres and the masculine shout from outside, but as people clamoured around the road outside, she began to grow curious.

It wasn't until the ambulance arrived that she took much notice.

"Carmen! Get in the back, Eerin's just been hit by a car," Richard cried desperately, when she stepped out to see what was going on.

She felt her heart physically stop, completely gripped by fear and a horrible, black, choking feeling that threatened to swallow her whole. She didn't even know what was happening until he pulled her into the back of the ambulance with him, and it sped into action.

"What happened?" she questioned desperately, pulling to be near to her friend. She lay back on some starchy mattress, her skin pale and her eyes closed, a gash that was bleeding profusely on the side of her forehead, and a few grazes on her arms.

"It's nothing serious, don't worry," the paramedic assured them, but it did nothing to calm their fears.

"Why isn't she moving?" Richard demanded, hardly understanding the words that were spilling from his mouth.

"She's just unconscious. Don't worry, there's no breaks, nothing internal from the looks of it, she wasn't run over, she's just suffered a nasty bump, it's alright," the paramedic insisted. Carmen began to cry.

"It's alright. It's fine, Car, she's going to be okay," Richard murmured gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she rocked back and forth, weeping.

"Fuck off, Car. I'm not dead," came a small whimper from the bed a few moments later, after Carmen had begun to wail in Italian about how her best friend was dying.

"Eerin!" Carmen squealed, diving to her friend, who groaned, and slowly sat up.

"You should lie back, you might have a concussion," the paramedic instructed sternly. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"I've had worse," she muttered, before coughing loudly and giving another groan, falling back on the bed. She raised her hand to her forehead; there was some sort of white gauze on it already. "How does the other guy look?" she questioned with a small laugh. Richard managed to force a small smile, but it still looked slightly petrified.

"Not even a bump. You're both lucky," he muttered. Eerin sighed. "Any chance you don't remember what we discussed?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm still going to kill him," she informed him indelicately. "But I'll leave your name out of it," she added. He nodded, that addition not helping him at all, for some reason.

"You'll need a quick check up at the hospital, but I think you're going to be fine, Miss...?"

"Beaumont. Eerin Beaumont. The _not_ deceased," she replied firmly, squeezing the tearful Carmen's hand.

"It was pretty impressive, you know," Richard commented, trying to lighten the mood. "One moment we're arguing, and the next you bounce off a moving car. It's almost as if it were made out of rubber," he laughed awkwardly.

"Hmm. Forgive me if I don't request it on tape," she muttered with a sigh and a slight groan. "Sorry, Richard, but could you please just be quiet for a few minutes? I've got the worst headache known to man and walking into a car certainly didn't help it," she requested.

"Oh. Uh, of course," Richard muttered guiltily. Eerin gave another sigh, and reclined back, closing her eyes.

She only had a few minutes of peace, however, as they arrived at the hospital. Eerin was treated to a very quick check up, and after giving the front office her insurance and Medicare details she was able to walk right out, with nothing but a few bandages covering some minor grazes.

"How are you feeling?" Carmen asked cautiously. Eerin shrugged.

"Listen, Jan's flat is just up the road. I'm going to go back there, and I might come home on Monday. I just need a little time to think," she muttered with a sigh. She decided against telling Carmen about what Darcy had done – she just wanted to see if Chase and Jan could work through it before anything needed to be done about his involvement.

"That's fine. I'll walk you up."

"No, don't worry about it. Look, I can see the building from here, and I just really want to think right now," she begged. Reluctantly, Carmen nodded, and allowed her friend to swing her bag over her shoulder and start up the street.

Eerin's mind was in turmoil. She couldn't believe anyone could be so cruel – why would Darcy _do_ that to his best friend?

Her mind bitterly answered for her with memories of Darcy's cold frowns when he first met Jan, his angry criticisms of Fiona and their younger sisters, and the cruel way in which he simply mocked she and Bill Collins. He was a cold, cruel, heartless human being and that was all that could be said.

Jan was already asleep by the time Eerin got in. She was lying in the couch, and still had damp lines down her cheeks, as if she'd been crying, and an empty tub of Peter's ice cream sat on the coffee table before her. Grabbing a blanket, Eerin tossed it over her sister and smoothed back her hair gently.

Darcy had a lot to answer for. If it were just her that he had hurt, Eerin wouldn't have been so angry, but no one, _no one_ hurt Jannali and got away with it. One way or another, he would pay for what he had done to her sister. She wanted to throw him into the harbour or string him up from the telephone wires.

She gave a sigh and headed for Jan's unoccupied bed. But it wasn't her place to punish, she knew. She would simply have to ignore the bastard.

* * *

"Hey. You're still up?" Richard sighed, slipping into his cousin's flat as quietly as he possibly could. Darcy lay on a stylish brown leather lounge with a cup of tea balanced on his stomach, a book loosely held in the palm of his hand, and Boots sleeping by his feet. He didn't even glance up when he heard Richard come in.

"Evidently."

"You alright?" Richard questioned, throwing down his jacket and collapsing into an armchair.

"Obviously better than you. Is that your blood, or your helpless victim's?" he retorted dryly.

"It's not mine."

"_Please_ tell me you caught Graham on his way out and finished the job for me."

"Sorry, cuz. Listen, I need to... tell you something," Richard sighed, leaning forth, resting his head in his hands. "Before I do, you need to know that she's completely safe, absolutely fine. A few bumps and bruises, but nothing serious," he insisted.

Darcy slowly sat up, and placed his mug on the floor near the lounge.

"Please tell me you're not talking about Eerin."

His voice was steady, but hinted with a sense of dread and desperation that hung heavy between them. His cousin took a deep breath before responding.

"She – she was hit by a car, Darcy. But she's alright, she's going to be fine," Richard managed to choke out.

Darcy immediately leapt to his feet and grabbed his coat, practically trembling as he moved. His face was pale and his jaw set and determined.

"Darcy, she's fine! There's nothing you can do!" Richard insisted, jumping up to hold his cousin back with strong, insistent arms.

"I need to see her!" he demanded angrily, feeling his eyes sting with the threat of tears.

"She's _fine_! Carmen said she'd make sure she got home, she just bumped into the car, really!" he insisted. "She knocked her head and grazed her arms, but apart from that she's good, the hospital checked her out and everything," he explained. Darcy's heavy breathing slowed, and he reluctantly allowed his cousin to push him back onto the lounge.

"How?"

"We were outside. Arguing, actually, mostly about Graham. She'd had a few drinks and turned around to head back in. The guy in the car was being an idiot, swerving around the road and revving the engine to get attention, it wasn't her fault," he sighed. "She walked into it, bounced off, tried to break her fall with her arms but knocked her head anyway. I called an ambulance, Carmen and I went to the hospital with her, and when I knew she was alright she told me to go home," he continued. "Carmen is making sure she gets home alright. She might have a bruised tummy and a bit of a headache but other than that she'll be fine," he insisted. Darcy slowly nodded.

"I need to see her," he murmured with a forced, pained voice.

"You'll see her in class. She's going to be _fine_, Darcy," Richard said firmly. "But... I don't think – we talked, Darce. I don't think she's on the same page as you," he sighed quietly.

"She said she liked me, Richard," he snapped, turning away from his cousin.

"She was drunk, and after tonight I... I'd just be careful, cuz, just be on your toes," he begged.

"I'm not going to stick my tongue down her throat when I next see her, Richard," he retorted coolly.

Richard didn't bother raising his eyes from the spot on the hardwood floors. He wanted to tell his cousin about what he'd let slip to Eerin, but he knew it would probably send him over the edge. It was best to wait until he was a little calmer, and understood that Eerin was in no danger.

"I'm going to bed. Thank you for providing me with the worst nightmares I'll ever have tonight," Darcy muttered, standing up and crossing the room.

"Darcy."

He turned slowly with a raised brow, sensing the seriousness of his cousin's tone.

"Don't underestimate that girl's temper. Or her loyalty to her family. She's just as bad as you."

Darcy looked slightly confused, but nodded all the same, before leaving the large living room in search of his bed and a few hours rest.

Richard sighed. He'd certainly screwed things up.

**A/N: Hmm, I do like the dramatic stuff, don't I? **

**Next chapter is 'Hunsford proposal' scene, so the quicker you review the quicker I'll post it... Yes, I'm not really very subtle, am I?**


	16. Of Devastation and Deliberation

"_Standing at the punch table swallowing punch, _

_Can't pay attention to the sound of anyone_

_A little more stupid, a little more scared,_

_Every minute more unprepared,_"

-The National, 'Slow Show'

The sky was a gloomy grey when Darcy walked out the foyer of his apartment building. He didn't feel like driving, he just wanted to walk to the University and pretend that it was an ordinary day. He was terrified of seeing Eerin.

He kept on imaging horribly painful gashes all over her body, or her collapsing in the middle of the tutorial with internal injuries, or having forgotten him completely.

He was afraid, yes, but also desperate to see her. He needed to know that Richard was right, that she was going to be fine.

She was one of the last to wander in for the early morning class. She wore a pair of dark skinny leg jeans, heavy Doc Martins and an oversized grey hoodie, her fringe pushed to the side to disfigure the white gauze and butterfly clips on her forehead, and the long sleaves and fingerless gloves she wore probably to disfigure any cuts and bruises she had there. She looked pale, with dark rings beneath her eyes, but she was alive, and that was all that mattered.

The class instantly erupted into a chorus of whispers and quiet comments when she walked in.

"Yes, we all know what happened, I don't think discussing it throughout the lesson would be the best idea," his curt voice interrupted. Eerin didn't glance at him, but she looked slightly relieved when the mutters came to an end.

In fact, she didn't look at him at all through the entire lesson. She kept her eyes trained on her notebook laptop and the textbook open by her side. The lesson passed without her saying one word; even though he baited her with questions that he _knew_ she knew the answer to.

When the clock struck ten thirty students rose and collected their books, Eerin being no exception. Her arms moved with slight sluggishness, however, and she was the last to head to the door.

"Eerin. Can you come here, please?" Darcy requested gently, his voice so low that none of the other retreating students heard. She stopped, turned, and walked up to his desk, keeping her eyes lowered.

"Yes, sir?" she muttered diligently.

He startled her by pushing her fringe off the gauze to inspect the damage. It didn't look too serious, but he was no doctor. His fingers lingered slightly, before he pulled them away reluctantly.

"They checked to make sure you didn't have a concussion?" he questioned softly. She nodded.

"I'm fine," she informed him coolly.

"You hurt your hands?"

"Arms, mostly. They're fine," she replied.

"Anywhere else?"

She gave an annoyed grumble and pulled up her hoodie. Her flat stomach was completely covered in a terrific purple bruise. She pulled it back down with a scowl.

"There. Are you done?" she snapped angrily.

"How are you feeling?" he questioned, ignoring her frustration. He sat on the edge of his desk, bringing himself down a little closer to her eye level.

"Like I've been hit by a car. Hurts a bit," she answered curtly, crossing her arms against her chest.

"I was very worried," he confessed. She scoffed, and stared at her shuffling feet. "Eerin, I truly was very concerned," he insisted, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Well you don't have to pretend to care. Anyway, I'm sure Richard told you that I'm _fine_," she snapped.

"You know I care about you, Eerin. You were hit by a car, for goodness' sake, let me fuss a little," he smiled, but she only rolled her eyes and glanced impatiently at the door.

"Well, I'm fine and dandy. Couldn't be better. And really, why do you give a damn?" she snapped.

"I 'give a damn' because –" he stopped his playful tone and stared at her with a pensive from. "Eerin... I can't understand how you wouldn't be able to see that I care, you're the cleverest young woman I've ever seen," he objected. She rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't clever enough to trust my first impressions, and I wasn't clever enough to look before crossing the road," she retorted blankly, her dark eyes now flashing in anger.

"Eerin, I... when I heard what had happened, I was so frightened I might lose – it made me realise just how... how –" he stopped himself, and lowered his eyes in frustration. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"What the hell are you going on about?" she demanded pointedly, sounding impatient.

Darcy looked up at her, and before he could mutter a pathetic excuse about how he was feeling ill, he found himself blurting three little words he hadn't even known himself.

"I love you."

He felt just as surprised as she looked when those words spilled from his mouth. He felt his own eyes widen as if in shock.

"W – _What_?" she exclaimed, stepping back in surprise. He moved forwards to reach for her, but she pulled away. "Don't," she snapped, her jaw fixed and firm.

"Eerin, I –"

"No. _No_. Don't you _dare_," she warned angrily, her voice shaking. She looked at him in disbelief. "Did you really... did you just say that you _love _me?" she demanded in disbelief. He nodded slowly. "Are you shitting me?" she questioned.

He shook his head. He couldn't think, things were happening so quickly. He loved her? Since when had he _loved_ her? This was all so new to him; he couldn't understand why he knew with such certainty, but there was no denying it. He loved Eerin Beaumont.

Eerin took a deep breath, and turned away, her back facing him. He wanted to reach for her again, but he didn't know how she would react, and he didn't think he could stand to be rejected by her. He stood in silence until it was almost too much to bear.

"Please, say something. Tell me what you're thinking," he demanded. His voice revealed his nervousness – so far she hadn't reacted the way he had been expecting. But she _said_ she liked him, so she wasn't going to reject him. Was she?

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking."

"Yes, Eerin, I do. Please, just... talk to me. I need to know I'm not alone in this," he insisted, stepping forwards once more. She flinched before speaking again.

"I don't know what sick game you're playing, but it's not going to work with me," she snapped simply.

"Eerin, I'm not playing a game," he insisted softly, reaching forwards and gently placing his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off immediately.

"Then why are you saying those things?" she questioned angrily, wheeling back around to face him.

"Because I feel those things," he answered with as much steadiness as he could. "I know that as your teacher, it's not right for me to feel this way, but... Eerin, I _do_," he insisted.

"No you _don't_, you're saying those things to hurt me! I'm not playing your game, tell me _why_ you're saying that!" she demanded furiously. He was struck with a sudden wave of anger. Why was _she _resisting _him_?

"I'm saying them because I – I _love_ you! I don't care about games, I care about _you_!" he retorted with growing frustration. "I don't care about how ridiculously young you are, I don't care that we're from completely different circles, your _family_ and their behaviour and positions, I know that my decision is going to disappoint some but I can't help that!" he snapped. "I've tried to overcome what I feel but I _can't_, Eerin, I'm completely, totally, ridiculously in love with you!" he finished finally, feeling very much the fool for losing control of his temper, but he was still practically shaking with pent-up emotions.

She didn't say a word, her face was turned from him and he couldn't read her emotions.

"Come back to England with me. When this year is over we can forget about everything here, you can study at Oxford or Cambridge, you won't need to work in some _spa_, we – we can leave it all behind," he urged her insistently. "Eerin, _please_. Come back to England with me, I want you to be my partner, in every sense of the word," he practically begged, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently running his thumbs over her collarbone in a gesture of affectionate familiarity. He stepped closer to her again, so his chest was pressed against her back, and he breathed in the sweet fragrance of her shampoo. There was something about the tone of his voice that was self-assuring; he knew she couldn't say no.

"No."

Her curt response cut through his desperation like a slap in the face. She slowly turned to him, her dark eyes filled with tears as his hands slid off her shoulders.

"I should probably be flattered with such an... offer, but I'm not. I'm sorry. You've obviously got the wrong girl," she muttered with slight anger.

"I haven't. I know who I love, Eerin," he insisted, trying to reach for her again.

"It's not _me_! I don't – I don't love you and I never have! I never _will_!" she cried, pulling away. "I can only hope that all my crappy ties here will be enough to help you get over me and find some other brainless student. I'm not a slurry and I'm not letting a few shitty lines win me over," she snapped.

"I don't want to _win you over_, I love you and I want you to let me love you! This place is no good for someone like you, Eerin!" he insisted passionately, stepping forwards, and trying to reach for her. She pulled away. "You – you're the rose growing in the weeds. It's incredible that someone like you has come from such a ridiculous family, but I'm not letting you stay one more minute in this hell than you have to!" he continued angrily.

"I happen to love that family you so delicately described as being '_weeds_', I love them because they're the ones that raised me! How the hell can you think I'd take you seriously when you felt it necessary to list everything wrong with who I am?" she demanded furiously. "I don't want some chauvinistic pig telling me what I do and don't need, just – just leave me alone!" she cried angrily, her face white with emotion.

"And should I even bother asking why you find it necessary to reject me with such little attempt at politeness?" he snapped curtly, letting his hurt shine through his arguments.

"Because you certainly didn't give a damn about being polite to _me_!" she spat. "But I have other reasons, professor, you _know_ I do," she snapped, turning her head away with a pained scowl.

"Don't call me _professor_, is that all I am to you? Just your teacher? How can that possibly be when you're a hundred times more than a student to _me_?" he demanded, his eyes wide and pleading. He again tried to reach for her, but she turned away from him.

He was suddenly struck with the realisation of it all. She didn't love him. She didn't want him. He was _nothing_ to her!

"So I'm really nothing but the man who teaches your classes. Brilliant. It's good to know I have such a – a respectable place in your life," he snapped bitterly. She didn't reply. "Go on then, tell my why I'm thus repulsed. This should be good," he commanded, not knowing which would be worse, _not_ knowing why she didn't love him, or knowing, and not being able to do anything about it. He was trying to keep control over his temper, but he was simply too weak and the temptation to lose his veneer was too strong.

"How the hell am I supposed to run away into the sunset with the man that might have destroyed the one relationship that's been working for my sister, and has now left her alone to raise a baby?" she questioned incredulously, after formulating her words. "She _loves_ Chase, she loves him and you filled his head with lies, you've hurt her, my precious, wonderful, _pregnant_ sister who would never hurt a fly, you've hurt her and I will _never_ forgive you for that!" she cried angrily.

Darcy stepped back, as if slapped.

"How did you know about that?" he questioned quietly.

"It doesn't matter. I know and that's it. She cares more about Chase than she has for _anyone_ in the world, you say you love _me_, but it's _nothing_ compared to what she feels!" she cried.

"Don't you _dare_ doubt how much I love you, Eerin. I would do _anything_ for you, and I'm not afraid to show that!" he interrupted angrily. "If your sister has feelings for Chase then she's done a pathetic job of showing them, she hardly seemed to care for him at all!" he snapped.

"Because she's _shy_, Darcy! She's shy and she's insecure and she's been hurt, she hardly shows her true feelings to _me_!" she objected. "What you've done can't just be brushed over by you or Chase or even Jan – you've hurt her forever and that's not going to go away – because she'll see that in her child's eyes _every day_ for the rest of her life!"

"I did it for my friend!"

"You did it for _yourself_. If I'm supposedly good enough for you to fall in love with then why isn't Jan good enough for Chase?" she demanded, her dark eyes flashing with anger as she glared up at him.

"I knew you wouldn't be out to get my money, but Jannali didn't give me any indication to the contrary, particularly not with this 'pregnancy' hoax. And your mother certainly didn't help," he snapped coolly.

"My _mother_?"

"She was very eager to tell everyone at your party how lucky Jannali was to snatch up such a wealthy boyfriend, and how she hoped it would throw you and your younger sisters in the way of _more_ wealthy men!" he threw back accusingly. "Your younger sisters certainly helped _that_ suspicion, I must say!" he continued. It was Eerin's turn to look hurt. He sighed, and continued apologetically. "Jannali is old enough to understand the way in which the world works. You're young and a great deal more innocent than she is. That's why I knew you weren't... corrupted," he muttered in a softer tone.

"Jannali looks at the world through rose coloured lenses. If anything, _I'm_ the one that's been 'corrupted'," she snapped.

"I want you away from them. Away from your mother, your three younger sisters and even your _father_, they've done nothing for you!" he demanded suddenly.

"They've _raised_ me! They made me who I am!"

"I cannot be expected to love them for creating the woman I love – any attributes you have are in _spite_ of them!" he practically roared. "Do you honestly expect me to _rejoice_ in the prospect of uniting myself with a family like yours?" he demanded almost cruelly, stepping forwards. "The Darcys go back hundreds of years in England, we're one of the oldest and most respected bloodlines, if anything the line would be tainted, but I don't _care_!" he cried.

"Oh, that's good, 'the line will be tainted'. So that's my place, to provide the next generation? Fuck off, Darcy," she snapped, stepping away.

"I didn't mean it like that," he muttered with a frustrated sigh. "I – If you only understood what I'm sacrificing –"

"And _I_ wouldn't be sacrificing anything if I picked up and moved to England with you?" she retorted sarcastically. "My home? My family? My friends? I might not have some fancy bloodline, but I have a place here!"

"Your place is with _me_, not ruining yourself in the company of your ridiculous family!" he shouted, his emerald eyes now flashing with anger. "Maybe if I'd ignored the degradation your family would be to me and my reputation and ignored the reality I'd have been a little more successful! I thought you were secure enough in your own self to be able to handle it, but clearly I was wrong," he snapped bitterly. "I suppose if your _pride_ had not –"

"_My _pride?" she demanded incredulously.

"_Yes_, Eerin, your pride. Your stubbornness and ignorance when it comes to matters such as these," he cast back at her. She bit her tongue to avoid responding, but she couldn't help herself.

"You fucking arse. If _I've_ been 'proud' then at least I have an excuse, defending my family is a million times more reasonable then defending your '_reputation_' with some sort of back-water bogan like me," she spat.

"You know I don't think that about you," he muttered, gritting his teeth in frustration. "Our worlds are different, but I know that if you only cut off your connections to –"

"Either pull down heaven or raise me up, Darcy, but don't fucking teeter in the middle," she commanded angrily. "I'm a part of the family you think is ridiculous, so any insults you give _them_ might as well be aimed at _me_," she snapped. He gave a bitter, choked laugh and turned away so she couldn't see the tell-tale emotion he was struggling to control.

"I see now that I should have said nothing about your family and simply sprouted on about how much I love you!" he cried with sarcastic amazement. "I didn't anticipate discussing your family or your sister when I told you of my feelings. Perhaps I should have prepared a few rebuttals," he spat bitterly.

"Yeah, maybe it wasn't a good idea that we discussed how you ruined my sister and her baby's life as you make such a shitty attempt to woo me," she retorted, mimicking his sarcastic tone. "You know what, as if what you did to Jan wasn't enough, and as if the way you're _treating_ me wasn't any indication of what a jerk you are, I forgot Graham Wickham! You screwed _him_ over, too!" she continued furiously, her dark eyes flashing. "You're not going to ruin _my _life, too, Professor! Because that's all you do!

"You ruin lives! You're the most pompous, arrogant, chauvinistic _pig_ that I've ever met in my _entire _existence, and even if you _had_ left out my family and kept your nose out of other people's business, I would _never_ accept your insulting offers, because I've hated you from the very beginning of this course, and there are _no_ fancy words that can make up for the fact that you're _scum_!" she finished, now only a scant few inches from his face, her breathing heavy. Both their eyes were blazing with anger and the fire of arguing.

Their gaze locked, and before either knew what was happening, their lips collided and hands buried in hair, around waists, over shoulders, wherever they could find a place to explore.

Eerin could hardly breathe with the assault on her mouth. His lips were insistent and she felt as if her entire body was in flames as his hands ran up and down her waist, ending on the side of her thigh before slipping back up, beneath her hoodie, resting on the uncovered small of her back. He gently bit against her bottom lip, and she gasped, the momentary surprise allowing him access to her mouth.

Every single feeling in her body was intensified a million times, she was hardly conscious of everything but sensation; his hand moving up her back beneath her jumper and over her sides, his tongue clashing with hers before his lips shifted over her jaw, cheek, neck, the gentle incline as they leant back on his desk, until she was atop him with her hands buried in his dark hair. She was not aware of time or space or anything but the feeling of his hands on her skin, his lips against hers, and the sensations they were causing within her.

She whimpered slightly as he shifted, so her back was pressed against the desk and he was pressed atop her, his lips now practically biting against her throat. His hands were almost frantic in movement, and she found herself running her hands down his back, feeling the muscles shift and stretch beneath her palms. She winced as she felt a whiteboard marker digging into her spine, and it caused her to arch against Darcy. He gave a choked sort of groan and grazed his teeth gently over the curve of her neck. His frenzied hands tightened over her hips before sliding up her hoodie, cold against her sides and over her ribs, but filled her with a warm sensation that threatened to consume her.

The feeling of his desk against her bare spine as he slid her jumper up a few minutes later was a wakeup call to her, and she tore her neck from beneath his lips, her breathing heavy.

"No," she managed to get out, her voice firm. He closed his eyes and leant his forehead against hers, trying to control his breathing. He hands didn't move from their position.

"You – you're right. Not here. It's too dangerous," he muttered. Eerin hastily slid out from beneath him, anxiously running her hands through her hair and pulling her jumper down to maintain her decency.

"No. That's – that's not supposed to happen," she muttered, pushing back her hair and stepping away from him.

"Eerin, we –"

"No! Get away from me!" she cried, tears slipping from her dark eyes.

"I love you, Eerin! Don't just disregard that because you're frightened of how you feel!" he commanded, trying to reach for her, desperately trying to hold her back. He still burned from the sensation of holding her, and he'd be damned if he gave up those feelings.

"I have to go," she mumbled finally, grabbing her bag. He reached for her arm and pulled her back.

"No, Eerin, don't leave," he begged. She wiped her eyes.

"I can't do this."

"You just _did_, Eerin, you can't run from –"

"I have to go," she repeated, turning heel, and storming out of the empty classroom.

Darcy sighed, and then angrily kicked his chair over. It toppled harmlessly to the ground. Slamming his fist against his desk, he fell to his knees.

He felt completely and utterly lost, and he could only recall feeling so desolate and aching once more in his life.

Only, there was no helicopter for him to steal this time.

* * *

Eerin cried the whole drive home. She was surprised she could even see the road through all her tears. She had _Birds of Tokyo_ blaring from the stereo and tried to think of _anything_ but the devastated expression on Darcy's face and the feel of his lips and hands on her body, but it wasn't possible. She still trembled with the sensation.

She parked her car and immediately pulled out her key to let her into the granny flat. Cursing when she remembered the door what broken, she gave it a mighty kick and banged her fist against it helplessly.

She wiped her face and headed to the front door, slipping in as silently as she could. Leena and Kylie were in the front room, looking quite ridiculous as they hula-hooped on the wii-fit simultaneously.

"Hey bitch. You look like crap," Leena commented with a giggle.

"Shut up. I'm going to my room, tell Mum I'm not having dinner with you guys," she muttered, storming through the house. She heard Leena give an annoyed huff, but ignored it all the same. She passed Maiya, looking miserable as usual, but said nothing, slamming the door to her flat behind her.

She had no idea what to do when she stepped into the room. Her body was still trembling; it was as if something was trying to escape from inside her. Uncontrollable rage, perhaps.

But mostly she just felt weak and... dirty. Like she'd betrayed herself.

She sat in the bottom of the shower, scrubbing her skin raw in the hope that it would wash away what he felt. But it didn't, it only made her already bloodied arms bleed, and the bruises on her front turn darker. She stared at herself blankly in the mirror. Her body was tainted not only with wounds but with the evidence of –

She couldn't even think it. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers gently over the markings, images flashing before her like the most disgusting of montages.

There were soft, tender bruises that reminded her of the feel of his hands running over her sides, and flushes of red skin from where his insistent lips had kissed her. The visible manifestations were so slight she could barely see them, such as the small grazes from where his fingernails had dug slightly into the side of her hip as they slid down to lay on his desk, her gasp swallowed by an all consuming kiss.

She opened her eyes with a choked sob. It was too much to see that reminder of his unwanted passions that were lingering, even though his hands and lips had removed themselves from her body. She wanted to erase the marks from her skin, but at the same time, she wanted to keep the bruises and grazes alive, because she had never, _never_ felt that way before.

She didn't know why, but for some reason she buried out an old Polaroid camera and stood before the mirror. First she photographed the bruises from his hands, and then the red flushes on her neck and shoulders, and then the grazes on her hips. She smiled bitterly as the photos developed before her. They were tragically artsy and actually looked rather good for an amateur.

She pulled on an oversized sleeping shirt and hid the photos in a shoebox in her wardrobe.

The bruises, cuts and love bites would fade, but at least she would be able to keep secret the memories. The feelings, however, would never leave her.

* * *

There was something very appealing about Sydney in the middle of the night. Everything was silent but for the gentle roar of the dark waves lapping against the harbour walls, a light fog had settled in over the water and around the one or two slow-moving boats that bobbed up and down on the surface. There were barely any cars and almost no people as he sat down on a grassy slope near the MCA, knees pulled up, elbows resting atop them, hands clenched together and his lips pursed against them, willing himself not to cry.

She didn't love him.

And not only did she not love him, she didn't even _like_ him. She _hated_ him – and the more he looked back at his acquaintance with her, the more understandable that was. Since their first meeting he would constantly insult and belittle her, how could he not have seen how harsh his own behaviour was?

More than anything he was aware that his pain had little to do with her, when he scratched the surface. She had been the first thing he'd really _wanted_ in his life, and after denying himself even the slightest of happiness' for the sake of Ana's comfort and protection for the past eighteen years, her rejection was the collapse of a lifetime of walls that had been wearing down ever since she stepped into his classroom.

The disappointment was the hardest thing to handle. He'd hoped – nay, _expected_ that she would instantly fall into his arms and bed and he could finally fulfil his near-painfully suppressed desires. But it had become so much more than just a physical need that drove him, ever since his dream about coming home to meet his wife as she cooked dinner for him he had been seeing flashes of perpetual domesticity that had once frightened the living daylights out of him. Now it was all he wanted.

_No_, he reminded himself almost cruelly, _SHE is all you want. Only her, nothing else matters, only HER._

If he was willing to admit it to himself – he was angry with her. He was _furious_, seeing her walk away so unaffected by his affections. He wanted her to hurt, to cry, to be upset and have her heart broken – it was selfish, but he was filled with a sense of complete... _agony_, and he damn well wanted her to be in pain too.

He wanted her to stand on the edge a chasm as her life went down in flames and _hurt_. She was just... so small and yet she had such power over him. It was incredible; were he not a grounded man in modern times he would have thought her some kind of witch, so much was her hold on him.

His body still burned from the places her nervous hands had explored, on his lips he could still taste the slightest hints of tea and chocolate and her strawberry lip balm, he could still feel her hips pressed against his stomach, she felt so small and yet so powerful beneath him, like a force to be reckoned with. And she didn't even know it, if the insecure clutching at the nape of his neck was anything to go by.

He didn't want to go back to his flat and face Richard. He didn't want to see Ana in a week, he didn't want to talk to anyone. He wanted to crawl up beside Eerin and cry like a baby as she soothed him. He hated her for causing him so much pain – and he wished it were enough to overtake the fact that he still loved her, but how could it ever be enough?

She'd gotten herself under his skin. That five foot two siren with those big dark eyes and that playful smile – he was doomed from the beginning. But the only question that remained was what happened next. It was clear that the kiss and what followed wasn't intended. She practically ran away the moment he released her – she'd not wanted it and he felt filthy with the knowledge that he might have forced her into something she didn't want to do. But it also meant that there might be room in her heart for him. And after her drunken confession – perhaps there _was_ hope after all?

He didn't want to be arrogant and assume her opinion of him. How could he?

But there might just be room for forgiveness. He couldn't stand her thinking so ill of him, he needed to set the record straight and be honest.

He needed to tell her the full story, and there was only one way he could think of doing that.

**A/N: OH MY LORDIE I GOT MY MARKS BACK. IT'S ALL OVER. **

**So, an update! Because I love you all, and I got a good result for my HSC (very good, actually, almost ten points more than I needed for a BA at Sydney Uni), and because it is both Mattie and Jane Austen's birthday today. It's a sign from the dear lady that I should become a spinster authoress; so instead of becoming Stephen Fry's personal assistant, I will pursue a career in writing satirical romances filled to the brim with witty social commentary. **

**Or, you know, I'll get a job. Either way. **

**SO, yes, anyway, new chapter, please review, tell me how you liked this lovely little bit of angst and devestation!**


	17. Of Letters and Losses

"_Because the promise failed, because we're off the rails,_

_An arrow straight and true, a gift from me to you_

_So if you're gonna go, go with happiness,_"

-The Swell Season, 'Go With Happiness'

"You can get through this. An hour and a half and you won't have to deal with him again for weeks," Carmen reminded her friend with gently soothing words. Eerin nodded in silence, staring across the grounds at the tutorial classroom, as if it would disappear the moment she blinked. "And if he knows what's good for him, he won't try to speak to you. He'll just babble on like usual, and before you know it you can go home," she continued softly.

"I know," Eerin murmured, digging her hands into her coat pockets. Her friend sent her a sympathetic glance. She didn't know everything about what had happened, nothing, really, but she knew enough to tell that in Professor Darcy's classroom was the last place Eerin Beaumont wanted to be.

"Listen, I have to go, and your class is about to start. I'll be here when you finish, and if it goes badly we'll get so drunk you won't remember it," Carmen assured her cheerfully. Eerin sighed, nodded, and without another word, put one boot-clad foot forwards and began her march to her doom.

She'd had several days to think about things, but her mind was still muddied. She was angry with him for all he'd done. He'd practically destroyed her sister's life and seemed almost _proud _about it, and there could be no forgiving him. But she was also angry with herself for being so harsh and childish, even if it was in response to his childishness. He _did_ deserve it, she tried to remind herself, but she felt like she'd crossed the line at some point.

But she was so angry with him for making her feel so... confused. She couldn't think about anything else, she couldn't do anything else, only curl up in her bed and listen to sad songs as she contemplated the implosion of her universe. It took such a ground-shaking event to pop her bubble, and she couldn't stand it. She felt naked, afraid and isolated. None of the books in her father's library, which spoke so prettily about the joys and sorrows of love, explained the anger and isolation and pain that came when one was on the wrong end of an unrequited passion. She was a combination of guilt, frustration and sorrow. There was no room for flattery, she just wanted to go back in time and never have turned around when he asked her to stay behind at the end of the lesson.

She didn't meet his eyes as she stepped into the classroom. She didn't know what she would see in them, but she didn't think she could handle it if it was anything but his calm, cool reserve. She said not a word and didn't even glance in his general direction for nearly a full hour, before she really couldn't help it, and regretted it instantly.

He looked terrible. As if he'd not slept at all since their encounter, like he'd been drinking and not shaving and not brushing his hair or not done anything to help his appearance. He was clean, at least, but his clothes lacked the usual pernickety neatness that she'd come to associate with him. It looked as if he were running on auto-pilot.

She lowered her eyes the moment he caught her gaze, her cheeks flushing ashamedly. She didn't feel powerful for having brought such a normally strong and immovable man to the state she now saw him in, she felt guilty and petty.

"I wasn't impressed with the majority of your progress books, you need to work on your evaluations, be more detailed and precise," he announced, moving around the room as the class came to an end, returning the collected books and a copy of the holiday research that was to be done. Eerin murmured a quiet 'thank you' when he placed it on the corner of her desk, thinking herself silly to imagine that he might have used more care and intent when he placed it before her than he did with the others. "I want you all to complete the assigned reading and tasks that I've detailed on the assessment sheet, and I don't offer extensions. You will do it over the holidays, and there are no other alternatives," he commanded firmly. "You may now leave, and try to remain at least moderately safe during the break," he instructed, as the students all rose to leave.

Eerin frowned slightly as she slid her notebook into her bag. From between the sheets of paper fell a plain white envelope that she hadn't remembered putting there.

"Take care, Eerin," came a quiet murmur from behind her as she rose to leave. Darcy looked mournful and pale-faced, standing helplessly by his desk.

"Did you –"

"The letter explains everything," he answered before she could even question. He lowered his emerald eyes. "You won't... you won't find a repeat of my..." he trailed off, before raising his hand to push his hair back and rub his tired eyes. He gave a bitter chuckle that showed he was trying to make light of the situation, but only caused Eerin more distress. "You made your opinions perfectly clear, but there are a few things you mentioned that I feel I have a right to defend myself on," he muttered, before swallowing. "Please don't just throw it away. Read it, that's all I ask," he softly pleaded. She nodded.

"I will. It won't change anything, but I will," she said finally. He gave a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. That – that means a great deal to me," he replied, hazarding a small, weak smile. She turned away and left the classroom without another word, only the near painful beating of her heart.

She didn't really know where she was going as she crossed the grounds. She sat herself down beneath a shady tree and pulled the letter open with nervous fingers. It was long, several sheets of Moleskine stationary – before she even read the perfectly neat handwriting she ran her hand softly over the surface. She loved Moleskines.

She took a deep, measured breath, and decided to read what he had written, although she knew that nothing he could say would make up for all he had done.

_Dear Eerin,_

_Don't be alarmed, upon discovering this letter – as there will be no renewal of my feelings, which were so unpleasant to you. I know that perhaps I shouldn't be writing this, that you already hate me enough, and if you truly believe all you accused me of, then there's very little I can say to change your mind. I know I'm an insignificant part of your life, your teacher, and nothing more but the man who, as you said, has ruined your sister and her apparent child's life, but for the life of me I can't see myself able to breathe again, knowing that you're out there somewhere, hating me for crimes I didn't commit. _

_I'm not ashamed for any of the feelings that I related to you during our altercation. They were natural and justified. They were, however, insulting to you. This I understand and am sorry for. I'm sorry I have such a little opinion of your family, but I refuse to lie to you about my thoughts and opinions – as I said before, I cannot love them just because they – _

She peered at the words with a slight frown. He'd crossed a sentence out rather firmly, but if she held it up to the light she could still read it.

_- were the means of shaping the woman that I love. My feelings for you, however strong, do not let me forget their position in life, and how far below it is to my own_.

Her frown grew and she gave a small '_humph!_' of frustration, nearly tearing the letter up there and then. But something stopped her from doing so, and she continued to read.

- _are your family. And I know it pained you to hear my criticisms, but I can't stand lies, and I thought you understood their faults enough to see what I saw upon first meeting your mother and younger sisters, and even your father at your birthday party. But I know that as I did not personally hurt them, you might have overlooked my lack of conviviality towards them, and my somewhat pejorative comments, were –_

Eerin snorted. Conviviality? Pejorative? Did he seriously think he could throw a few big words in there to make his behaviour seem more gentlemanly?

_- were it not for my actions regarding Jannali. On that account I have little to say in my defence. I didn't think she felt anything for Chase, and I didn't want him to be hurt. He's a very old and dear friend to me, and I wanted to spare him any pain. I thought, with the behaviour of your mother and her lack of warmth towards him, that she was using him, and for that I'm sorry. My motives were not sinister, but I would do it again if I thought the same – my actions, however misguided and cruel they seemed to _you_, were in the service of a friend who I thought needed help. If your sister is going to have Chase's child, then this is a different matter, and of course, the necessary arrangements will be made. But if I was wrong about how Jannali felt and whether or not she is, as she claims, pregnant, then I'm honestly very sorry to have caused her, you, your family and Chase any pain. _

Eerin lowered the first sheet slowly, and released a slow sigh. He was wrong, but his motives weren't. She might not have done the same thing in that position, but she'd never been in a situation like that, so how could she know? She couldn't find it within her to hate him for what he did to Jannali, not when he'd never meant any harm. She didn't believe him to be a cruel person, not really. It didn't mean she trusted him, or that she even liked him; because he was still arrogant and bullying and obviously highly valued his own opinion, and she still resented him for what he did to her precious big sister, but... she didn't hate him for that. She would see. If he was going to keep Chase away from his child then she would have no choice but to despise him with all her being – but he was a father himself, in a way. He would never do that.

_Assuming you've not torn this letter up in a fit of pique, I'll move on to address the second issue, with a request for your complete discretion on this matter. It's not my secret to tell, but I have to tell you, or else you might find yourself in danger, and that's the last thing I would wish for you. It concerns Graham Wickham and my actions towards him. The events I'm about to relate to you are painful to me and the few other people that know, Richard being one of them, and you can ask for his confirmation if you don't believe me. Any hatred you might have towards me I can handle, but as this concerns my sister, I beg of you not to take your anger for me out on her by revealing the truth of my history with Graham. _

_I grew up in a small region called Derbyshire, in the north of England. Graham was around my age, and lived in the neighbouring town of Lambton. His father worked with my father, and we were expected to be friends. I was admittedly, as a child, somewhat introverted, and found it difficult to make friends. And what's more, Graham and I simply didn't like each other, so he tended to spend his time with my father, trying to get his attention and favour. Graham's parents divorced when I was first sent to boarding school. He moved to London for most of the year with his mother, however he spent the holidays in Lambton with his father, and thus still in my company. We remained indifferent to each other, and Graham remained eager to secure the adoration of my father. He was jealous, I think, of the lifestyle that I had, and the fact that I had two loving parents, and wanted to replace me. _

_I didn't take much notice of Graham over the next decade or so, I saw him briefly in the holidays and I had as little to do with him as I could. I didn't care that he was getting himself involved in things he shouldn't, drugs, alcohol, crime, because it was his choice to ruin his life. His father died of a heart attack when he was about thirteen, and my father took pity on him, accepting him into our home during the holidays. Once more, it didn't bother me, we simply didn't get along, and my attempts to get to know him were met with scorn. _

_My parents were killed in a car crash when I was sixteen, and Ana was only ten months old. In my grief I attempted something very stupid, but despite it, I was thankfully allowed to keep Ana with the assistance of Richard, who is several years older and was at an age suitable to become her guardian. When I turned of age, I also became one of her guardians, and the moment I left Eton I took full responsibility of her care. I moved us to Oxford so I could attend university and still look after her, which caused many problems with Graham, as he now no longer had somewhere to stay in the holidays and my father, of whom he took advantage of my demanding he pay for his every whim. _

_My father had set aside a fund for Graham to pay for his education, of which Graham was aware. I was fully prepared to pay for his university fees, but he informed me that he had no intention of going to university, and wanted the money, which I gave to him, in addition to several thousand pounds of 'living expenses'. I thought I would see the end of him. _

_Over the years he contacted me regularly to seek money, which I denied him, after learning how he had squandered it on things that are perhaps too sordid to explain to you. I didn't see him again for another fourteen years, by which time he'd accumulated incredible debts and had sunken to a state of poverty, and came begging at my doorstep. I was disgusted, and turned him away, however, to this day, I wish I hadn't, I wish I had simply given him some money and could be rid of him. _

_Ana went missing from school that day. I went to pick her up at the end of the day and was informed by her form teacher that she had already been picked up by another man, a friend of her brother's, he told her. Ana is very trusting and Graham can be very persuasive, and used personal information to convince her. He claimed I had been in a minor accident and needed him to bring her to the hospital, and in her fear, she went with him. I believe his intention was to use her as blackmail, knowing that Ana is all I have, and I would give _anything_ to keep her safe. He wasn't alone in this, apparently the men he owed money to agreed to assist, ensuring they received a cut of the ransom. _

_I of course, contacted the police and was prepared to do what Graham wanted to get Ana back. Somewhere along the lines things got confused – the police raided the flat she was being held just in time to stop one of his associates from trying to violate her, and in the mayhem, Ana was injured. She spent several months in hospital, and Graham was given a three year gaol sentence as an accessory to kidnapping. She still has nightmares about what happened, and I know that I've failed her as the father I thought I was by not saving her from him. _

_I tell you this not to hurt you, or to cause pain, but because I don't want you to think the wrong thing about Graham. He's a bad man, Eerin, and I don't want you to find yourself in a position remotely similar to Ana's, not after all the pain it's caused my family. _

Eerin gave a choked sob, horrified to feel herself crying. She was flooded with guilt, remembering how she'd accused Darcy of ruining Graham's life when he'd – she felt sick at the thought of Darcy's poor little sister, who could have been no more than fifteen, going through what had happened. She frantically continued reading, although knowing that with every line the foundations of her hatred for Darcy were disappearing, replaced with guilt, regret and sorrow.

_Eerin, I need you to know that I'm genuinely sorry if my feelings to you were insulting. I hope it hasn't ruined our relationship as a teacher and a student, and that my behaviour will not influence your schoolwork. You're a wonderfully talented symbolist, and I know that with effort, you will go far in the field. I look forward to someday working with you. That is of course, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for getting carried away with my passions. _

_I'm not expecting anything from you, and will take myself out of your life as best I can. I hope you stay well and are happy. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_William F. Darcy_

"Eerin? Are you alright?" came Carmen's concerned, questioning voice. Eerin looked up through teary eyes, and shook her head.

"I – I don't know," she managed to get out. Carmen helplessly knelt before her and pulled her into a warm hug as her friend wept into her shoulder.

How could she have been so _stupid_?

* * *

"Hey. Haven't seen you in a day or so," Richard commented needlessly as Darcy stepped into the living room, tossing down his laptop bag and coat. Richard took in the pale, miserable expression of his cousin and jumped to the most obvious conclusion, he didn't get the girl. "Listen, Darce, there's plenty of fish in the –"

"Don't you _dare_, Richard," he snapped, turning to him suddenly with dark flashing eyes, practically trembling. Richard inwardly quivered, when his cousin was angry it was damn frightening. He swallowed rather obviously.

"I suppose you've spoken to her," he muttered, or rather squeaked.

"Yes, I've spoken to her, only to discover that she _hates_ me because of what I did to her sister, and apparently, to Graham," he threw back bitingly. Richard inwardly winced.

"Uh, you –"

"She didn't need to know, Richard, there was _no reason_ for her to know, and you _told_ her!" he cried angrily.

"I take it she's not the forgive and forget kind?" he offered with a weak attempt at humour. Darcy clenched his fist, and glared at the wall.

"I'm trying to keep calm, but you certainly aren't helping," he practically growled. Boots gave a fearful squeak and slipped out of the room as quickly as she could.

"In my defence, you can't have a relationship with the girl based on lies," he said as steadily and calmly as he could.

"I can't have _any_ relationship with 'the girl', because to her, I'm nothing more than scum!" he roared, his face pallid, honest pain flashing in his emerald eyes. "Richard, I _love_ her, and you destroyed whatever hope I could have, not to mention getting her hit by a car," he snapped. Richard rose to his feet, feeling a stab of indignation.

"Now that's not fair – I didn't get her hit by that car, and she was already set against you, I wasn't going to lie so you could trick her into thinking you're an angel," he retorted sternly. "And you can't blame me for this, if she doesn't like you then it's hardly _my_ fault," he added in afterthought.

"Richard, I have no desire to speak to you right now. Do what you want this evening, I don't care," he muttered finally, storming out of the room and into his study. Richard gave a long sigh. His cousin kept the alcohol in there.

He sat himself back on the settee with a groan, running his hands through his light hair. His cousin was right, he shouldn't have mentioned Bingley, but he was also wrong – it wasn't _his_ fault that she didn't like him. For whatever reasons, she already thought badly of Darcy, and his interference was just the tip of the iceberg.

Richard silently packed his bags after booking a flight back to England. It was stupid that he came at all; he should have known he'd make a mess of things somehow, and now... well, it wasn't like Darcy had much of a chance anyway, but regardless, he'd had a hand in making things worse, when all his cousin wanted to do was love the damn girl.

He scribbled a small note on a post-it and left the flat in silence. His cousin didn't need him anymore, the only thing that had the slightest chance of making him feel a little better was a stiff drink and maybe a blonde or two. Or at least, that was his experience.

**A/N: Not a terribly long chapter, I'm afraid, but it has the letter in it, which is important. So, it's bye-bye Richard, and our self-destructive protagonists are due for a short break. I've bent the truth a little here, I'm quite certain that there wouldn't be a two or three week break in the middle of a semester at university, but I needed one, so I made one. It's fiction, peeps. **

**Oh, and thank you all for the kind words regarding my marks, I'm very happy with them and I'm just glad it's all over. A few people have been wondering about what I intend on doing next year, and the plan is a Bachelor of Arts at the University of Sydney, majoring in English Literature and French Studies, and from then I will decide if I want to get a real job in an office and all that, or pursue my dream to marry Stephen Fry and have his babies. He's only 90 per cent gay, so there's still hope.**

**-Evie**


	18. Of Moping and Maddy

"_The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out,_

_You left me in the dark_

_No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight,_

_In the shadow, of your heart,_"

-Florence & The Machine, 'Cosmic Love'

"I saw a new style I'm sure you'll _love_, cropped, short at the back and long at the front," Hannah said eagerly, fingering the long ends of Eerin's silky locks. "But we'll modify it, it'll only be a few inches off the back, it'll suit you so well," she added, her eyes twinkling with excitement. She'd been wanting to get at Eerin Beaumont's hair for a while – and now was her chance!

"No, I don't want it to suit me. Short," Eerin insisted, before the girl could say another word. Hannah frowned.

"I don't know, are you sure you want short hair? I mean, long is always in," she reminded her, the scissors glinting beneath the harsh salon lighting. Eerin firmly shook her head, staring at the mirror before her with distain.

She didn't want her new hair to suit her, she wanted to be someone completely different, she didn't want to be recognised, she just wanted to disappear completely and never have anyone pick her out in a crowd. After the total confusion she had been going through for the past few days since reading the letter, all she wanted was to disappear.

"I don't care. Cut it all off. Make me look like a boy. Boys don't have problems," she muttered quietly. Hannah tugged on the end of her own honey-blonde hair and chewed her bottom lip.

"Well what about something like Alexa Chung? That's shorter than what you normally go for, but not drastic, like Agyness Deyn or something," she offered.

"No, Hannah, really. Please, just do it," she practically begged. Hannah huffed, before grabbing a lock of hair and snipping. As the first few locks fell to the floor, the outline of the small red flush where he had suckled on her neck became visible. She felt silent, barely noticeable tears roll down her cheeks and Hannah continued, it was shorter, shorter, shorter, until it was cropped and framing her face. She hated it because it didn't make her look ugly, it didn't make her look unrecognisable, it suited her far too much for her to like. As Hannah began to make a few small adjustments she stifled a whimper of disappointment. Luck was not on her side – it looked _good_. It looked like _her_.

And she hated it. She wished it didn't as she tentatively ran her hand through it, before giving her reflection one last glance. She sighed.

It was different. It was drastic. It was _her_, and she was so disappointed. It hadn't changed how she felt, it hadn't given her a new outlook, she was sadly aware of the fact that a new haircut did nothing to make her stop thinking about... him.

Her sigh turned to a bitter laugh. She was stupid for expecting a haircut to make things better, she had messed up and that was her own fault, and her hair had nothing to do with it, and it _certainly_ wasn't going to make everything alright.

* * *

"You don't seem... yourself," Ana commented thoughtfully, turning to her brother as he stared silently out to the crashing ocean outside the beach house he had rented for the break.

"I could hardly be anyone else, cricket," he shrugged simply, not moving his eyes.

Ana sighed. She'd so been looking forwards to seeing her brother after being separated from him for months, and the idea of visiting Australia, where it was always supposed to be sunny and the beautiful beaches certainly helped. But when she arrived she noticed small, subtle changes in his behaviour. He never smiled, he'd taken to preferring his own company, and conversation was scarce. It had only been a few days so far, and she didn't much mind, as she was always down on the beach, but... she missed the warm, friendly man that she had known as her father and brother.

"Is it a girl?" she questioned finally. He didn't respond, silently answering her question. "It is! I knew it! Tell me all about her," she demanded. He sighed.

"Ana, I don't want to talk about it," he muttered quietly.

"No. Tell me. I want to know," she insisted.

"_Please_, Ana, can we just forget it?" he snapped.

"William Fitz Darcy, _spill_," she demanded, her eyes flashing with the trademark Darcy determination. He gave a long, slow groan.

"Eerin Beaumont. She's one of my students. It's not going to happen," he informed her, his tone clipped. It was quite obvious he didn't want to discuss the issue any further.

"Well, does she know you like her?"

"She knows about my feelings, but she made it perfectly clear that she cares nothing for me. Nothing is going to happen, Ana," he said shortly. She noticed a certain droop in his eyebrows, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"You told her?"

He sighed. "I told her, showed her, made her cry, the lot. I tried to explain, but she didn't want to listen. And she had no reason to want to listen, anyway," he answered, after slight hesitation.

"But you're the most wonderful man in the world! She _has_ to be able to see that!" she insisted passionately. Darcy gave a small, bitter chuckle, and ruffled his precious sister's dark curls.

"No, Ana. She doesn't like me, and now when I look back at what I said, what I did, how I acted... I can understand why. She has no reason to care for me, or even think well of me," he replied quietly, attempting to sound casual, but it simply sounded pained as he stared out into the crashing waves of the ocean before them. "I just have to forget about her. It's not like I deserve her," he said finally, so softly that she could hardly hear it.

"Fitz, don't you _dare_ say that!" Ana insisted, immediately wrapping her arms tightly around her brother. "If this girl doesn't love you then _she _doesn't deserve _you_! You're the most amazing, wonderful big brother in the world, and she's too stupid to see that!" she declared.

"Ana, don't say that. She's not stupid. She's not stupid at all," Darcy practically snapped. Ana promptly deposited herself on her big brother's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, like she did when she was a child. He leant his chin against the top of her head. "She's... wonderful. And although I'm angry with her I still want to see her again. It would be ridiculous to say I need her, but I rather think I do," he murmured, so quietly she almost didn't hear.

"Then don't quit! If she's as wonderful as you think then she'll realise what she gave up!" she insisted, her emerald eyes flashing with eagerness and determination.

"Ana, please, don't," he quietly pleaded, glaring at the ocean before him in an attempt to contain his emotions.

"But you obviously have feelings for her, and you deserve to be with someone you –"

"Isn't it enough, Ana, that I've lost the woman I love? I don't want to talk about it anymore, I'm ending the subject _now_!" he insisted, sharply interrupting her tirade. Ana lowered her head.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. He sighed, and pressed a small kiss to her forehead as she buried her head into his neck.

"No. Don't be. I'm just... silly," he murmured with a small, slightly pained laugh.

"Do you love her more than you love me?" she questioned almost silently. He stroked her curls back gently with his large, warm hand.

"Differently, cricket. I can't measure out how I feel, and I don't anticipate a situation where I have to choose between you both. I love you both too much," he answered. Ana nodded against his chest.

"Have you said sorry?"

"Yes," he answered almost instantly. It was a small pause before he spoke again. "But I'm not expecting forgiveness, I just... I couldn't stand her being out there, and thinking ill of me," he explained, slightly ashamedly.

"You said she's one of your students?" she questioned curiously. He nodded.

"She's a third year Bachelor of Arts student. I think she wants to be a writer, but she's got incredible potential as a symbolist. She's talented," he replied, sounding slightly more pleased, given the opportunity to talk openly about Eerin.

"What's she like?" Ana enquired eagerly.

"She's terribly clever, and very funny. She's a bit unconventional, doesn't eat meat, listens to bands I've never heard of, that sort of thing," he shrugged. "And of course, she's very pretty, just to make my life harder," he sighed, with a small smile.

"Prettier than me?" Ana objected with a false scoff. He rolled his eyes.

"Now you're just fishing for compliments," he scolded, fighting a grin. She beamed.

"Of course. I always am! So what else? What does the look like?" she demanded.

"Well... she's a brunette," he informed her. "She's quite short, about six or seven inches shorter than you, actually, I think she's a little too skinny myself, but she's certainly... uh, healthy," he muttered quickly, cheeks flushing as he recalled the long summer days on the yacht where he would sit, staring at her body. It reminded him of the sketches he had drawn of her. "I have some drawings, if you'd like to see," he offered. Ana's eyes shone brightly with such an eager prospect.

"Of course I do! I want to see what my future mummy slash sister looks like!" she gushed excitedly. Darcy sent his sister a firm, and slightly scolding glance, and she merely rolled her green eyes, sliding off his lap and practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Just sit down, Ana, you're going crazy," he chuckled, stepping back into the house. He returned a few minutes later with a small moleskine, filled with sketches or scraps of paper that had her lovely form drawn on it. He flicked through to find one of his favourites, drawn on the yacht, when she had a very serene expression. It was a half-profile of her face, and seemed to catch the feeling in her eyes and the gentle smile on her lips.

"She's pretty," Ana commented, as if in surprise. Her eyes traced the gentle lines Darcy had drawn with his careful hand. "But the way you spoke about her... I kind of thought she'd look like a goddess or something," she muttered thoughtfully.

"She does. To me, at least," he shrugged, his eyes trained on the face glancing off in the distance in the pages of his notebook. Ana smiled quietly as she looked up at her brother, she couldn't read his expression, but she knew her brother well enough to know that he was quite serious about this girl.

"Do you miss her?" she asked gently. Darcy shrugged, and then nodded quietly.

"Yes. More than I thought I would," he muttered, tracing the line of her jaw on the page. "I think the most difficult thing to accept is the fact that she never saw me as anything but her teacher. And that's the way it should be, but... I wanted so much more, Ana," he continued. "But it's not like she'd ever be interested in me. She has her whole life ahead of her, I'm too 'arrogant' and 'pompous' for her, I suppose she just sees me as her boring old professor. She's young, talented, beautiful, and doesn't blend in with the crowd. And I'm just... me," he muttered bitterly.

"But that's a lot to offer her, you know," Ana pointed out slyly. Darcy ran a tired hand through his dark hair.

"I just have this crushing sense that I'm just not good enough for her, and that there's going to be some younger, more extroverted and charming man out there who'll sweep her off her feet and get to enjoy the life that I want," he confessed slowly. Ana nodded in understanding.

"And what are you going to do about all this?" she enquired, after a short pause.

"There's nothing I really _can_ do, Ana," was his response. "I mean, even if she decided to pick this class up in the next semester, I still go back to England in November. I have no excuse to stay here, hoping for something that probably won't happen," he explained logically. Ana thoughtfully propped her feet up on the edge of the table as she stared out to the beach before her.

"Well. You said sorry?" she probed, to which he nodded.

"I wrote her a letter. And now that I think back on what I wrote, it was _unbelievably_ arrogant and self-absorbed, just like she says I am," he muttered ashamedly.

"But you apologised," she stated. He nodded.

"I... explained myself as best I could. I wanted her to know that she had a few things wrong," he shrugged.

"Hmm. Well... if you've apologised, then the ball is in her court," she said simply. "She just needs to forgive you, and then when you get back to class you can make up and get married and move to England," she decided firmly. Darcy chuckled, and shook his head.

"No, I can't expect that. A slap is what I'll probably get," he laughed. Ana rolled her eyes.

"You're so dramatic. The girl _has_ to love you, you're _you_."

"Well, with logic like that, it's a wonder we're not married already," he grinned. Ana smirked.

"Well, I got the looks in the family, I needed the brains to even it out, too," she sighed smugly.

"And because of your arrogance, _you_ can bring the mugs into the house," Darcy laughed, getting up out of his chair and moving to the French doors that lead into the living room of the attractive beach house he'd rented.

"Fitz, it's going to be okay," she said suddenly. He stopped, and didn't turn, but spoke with his head lowered.

"Ana, please don't say that," he practically begged. "I – I don't think I can handle being disappointed when it all falls apart again," he muttered, before walking into the house.

Ana sighed. She wished she knew how to fix her brother, how to make him feel like normal again. There wasn't much she could do.

Suddenly, an idea struck her, and she immediately pulled out her phone.

"Chase? Yes, it's me, and don't you dare call me sprout," she began the moment the call was answered. "I have a proposition for you. How about a little beach holiday?"

* * *

"Hey babe," Eerin greeted, stepping into the threshold of her sister's flat with her best comforting smile. Jan was in her usual position, curled up on the lounge with someone miserably romantic coming out of the CD player – today it was Savage Garden.

"Hullo," Jan muttered, before sniffling, not even glancing up. Eerin sighed as she tossed her jacket down, and ruffled her newly short hair.

"It's a bit chilly out there this morning, the wind is coming right off the harbour," she commented, strolling into the kitchen and filling the kettle. "I'm making tea – what kind do you want?" she called.

"I don't care. Anything," Jan answered, her voice muffled with the woolly sleeve of her jumper, which she had just buried her head in.

"Well I don't think we'll be trying that strawberry tea again, it tasted like jelly. Let's just be traditional and go for an Irish Breakfast, shall we?" she suggested, rifling through cupboards. "Jan, you _really_ need to go to the shops. You have no food," she informed her sister, pulling out a small tin box which contained the Irish Breakfast tea. It was empty. "Damn, we'll have to go with English," she muttered.

English. Hah. It seemed like the universe was trying to tell her something.

"I don't feel like going shopping, sorry, Rin," Jan sniffled.

"That's fine. I'll go for you in a few minutes. But you really need to start taking care of yourself, if not for _you_ then for the baby," she warned, pouring the hot water from the kettle into the teapot. The kitchen was instantly filled with the comforting smell of hot tea, which at least overwhelmed the sink full of dirty dishes. Eerin sighed. She'd never seen Jan so bad before – normally she was so cheerful that nothing could upset her.

But this was different. This was _Chase_. And this was a _child_.

"There we go, a nice hot cuppa and some iced vovos, you should be all set 'til I come back from the market," Eerin announced, nudging the coffee table over to her sister and placing a mug and plate of biscuits before her. Jan sniffled, and one hand crept out from beneath her blanket to sneak a biscuit, before returning at lightning speed.

"Thanks," she mumbled. Eerin smiled, patted her sister's head, and after grabbing her coat and a straw-woven basket she left the flat.

It had officially been ten days since she received Darcy's letter, and three weeks since Jan had been miserable and contained to her flat. She could, in part understand Jan's distress – she was still in love with Chase, and he had left her. But it had been _weeks_ of tears and meltdowns and misery; she honestly didn't know if Jan would _ever_ recover, at the rate she was going.

They hadn't told anyone about the pregnancy. Not until things were sorted with Chase. Only Eerin, Carmen, Chase and Darcy knew, even if Darcy didn't believe Jan's claim. _Well_, Eerin thought, _in about eight months they'll certainly be proved wrong_.

She didn't mind doing the little things for Jan while she was in such a state, like going to the markets or cleaning the dishes. Jan would have done the same for her in an instant, particularly if _she_ was the one with a baby on the way, and she was resolved to make a better person of herself, after screwing up so royally with Darcy.

She inwardly winced as she selected tomatoes, she had been trying not to think of him, but he always snuck back into her mind. For their whole acquaintance she had seen him only as her teacher, her snobby, rude, uptight teacher. And he _was_ arrogant and had a tendency to insult her at every turn, but she had been a bitch too, if she wanted to admit it to herself. After all, she had no right to throw Graham in his face, and couldn't help but shrivel inside as she realised how much pain that must have caused him.

But she was still filled with anger when his words swum up to her consciousness. He had _no right_ to say what he had said about her family, her family whom she loved, despite their failings. She was still furious with him, not for loving her, but for loving her in such a manner that destroyed any hope of their moving on. They were doomed to awkward silences and avoidance.

"Uhh – love? Are you right?" came a questioning voice from behind. She turned, realising that she'd been standing in front of the fresh fruit section, staring at tomatoes for the past few minutes. She gave the wizened old woman a slightly pained smile.

"It's nothing. Sorry, I was just thinking," she apologised, moving along. The woman nodded, slightly warily.

"A young man?" she enquired, with a knowing smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkling. Eerin sighed, and bit her lip.

"Yeah. It always is," she shrugged. The woman patted her shoulder comfortingly.

"Don't worry, love. They all come round in the end," she assured her, before moving along with her trolley.

The woman's kindly reassurance, along with the build-up of circumstances that had led her to be a veritable mess of a person, all contributed to the sudden and embarrassing onset of tears in the fruit and vegetable section of the local grocers. She pathetically sniffled as she selected teas and biscuits, until an irritated man threw a box of tissues into her basket.

But she couldn't help being pathetic. She had _no_ experience with the situation she found herself in, being miserable over a man – she hated him for making her feel so guilty, but at the same time all she wanted to do was see him again and apologise, although she wasn't quite sure what for.

"I'm back!" she called, letting herself in Jan's flat, after the tears had subsided and she was restored to at least a shadow of a human being once more. Jan sniffled from the lounge, not having moved once since Eerin left. But at least the vovos were gone and the tea was down to the last dregs, she reminded herself.

"The pumpkins were pretty cheap, so I got a half-a-one, I think I'll stuff it, I got some capsicum and mushrooms, and I know you have some couscous in here somewhere, so that should feed you for a few days," she informed her sister, putting the basket on the kitchen bench.

"Okay."

"And I was thinking, Maddy's coming down in a few days, so I reckon you should come kip at home for a little while, get out of here," she suggested.

"Alright."

"Very cooperative," Eerin sighed.

"Sorry. Yes, I'll go, that sounds lovely," Jan replied, turning her head slightly to glance to her sister. She frowned slightly. "You cut your hair," she realised suddenly. Eerin gave a small smile.

"Actually, I paid someone else to cut it. That's how we do it in the real world," she teased, pulling off her beanie and giving her hair a little ruffle. "It's the best thing I ever did, you know. I don't have to brush it, I don't have to style it, it doesn't get in my way and let's face it, it looks cute, so I'm pretty much set," she informed her, glancing at her reflection on the surface of the kettle.

"Oh. I like it," Jan replied quietly, before sliding back into her position on the lounge.

Eerin sighed. She was hoping to get a smile out of her, but it would do for now.

* * *

Maddy Gardiner was... somewhat concerned when she got to Merryton Downs.

Things were more than just a little hectic. Fiona was just as crazy as ever, but it seemed as if she had suddenly lost any sense she might have once possessed, and apparently her daughters were the reason behind it. The three younger girls were as they always had been, and Warrain hadn't left his shed for several days, as usual, but the biggest difference was in the two older girls.

Both of them were miserable.

"So I'm assuming that it's men that have got my two nieces so angsty?" she questioned dryly, leaning against the doorframe of Eerin's flat where the two were crawled up on the settee, watching some rubbish old movie.

Jannali sniffled slightly, and looked up, attempting a smile.

"Hi, Maddy. How was the trip?" she questioned with a general attempt at cheerfulness. Maddy rolled her eyes.

"It was fine, but I doubt you really care. Unless you're finally going to go to the Hunter with me these holidays," she retorted laughingly.

"I thought you were going to Corlette for the break," Eerin pointed out, sitting up. She didn't seem as bad as Jan, but she was pale and skinnier than usual – if that was even possible, which made Maddy rather suspicious, primarily because as far as she was aware, Eerin wasn't involved with anyone, but also because she happened to be the Queen of Denial. It had to hurt her pretty deep to make her sniffle.

"Well, the plan was to spend a week in Corlette and then hang around the Hunter for a little while, I wanted to try some of the vineyards because I never have anyone to go check them out with me," she shrugged, pulling her blonde curls back into a loose tie.

"You've been living in the Hunter for ages now, surely there can't be anything you haven't already seen," Eerin laughed, with a genuine smile. Maddy grinned, and gave another shrug.

"Tom's too little to be carted around to wineries, and I'm usually so busy looking after him anyway that I can't get out of the house," she explained. "That's why I want _you two_ to come with me," she announced finally. Jan and Eerin both sighed.

"Oh, Maddy, you know we'd like to," Jan began slowly.

"I just don't think it'd be a good idea," Eerin finished. Maddy scoffed.

"Bollocks. You two are both miserable, you're getting out of the house. I'm leaving tomorrow morning, so you'd better make sure you have your things ready," she commanded, before walking out of the flat she had once lived in with a confident grin.

She knew her nieces would join her. And it would be just the ticket to getting them out of their miserable ruts.

Madelyn Gardiner felt very strongly for her two eldest nieces – she loved all her family, of course, but the three younger were a bit difficult to have a conversation with. But Jannali and Eerin were both sensible, intelligent girls (Jan a little less so, but she was a great deal gentler than Eerin, and was considered the more beautiful of the sisters), and she got along well with them. After all, she was actually only a little older than Jan – she would only be turning twenty-eight that year.

Maddy wasn't particularly _proud_ of some of the more catastrophic events in her life, like getting pregnant when she was in her early twenties, having to move in with her sister's family because she was single, broke and homeless, but she wouldn't change a thing. She had Thomas, and that was the most important thing to her – her precious little five-year-old son.

But her life had gotten on track recently. She moved just outside of the Hunter Valley, New South Wales, got a good job managing a shop that put food in Tom's belly and money in her purse, and she was even doing a course in Events Management at TAFE so she could start up her own business in a few years. Her only regret was that she hardly ever got to see the rest of her family, her nieces and sister and brother-in-law (although she could hardly put up with the miserable bastard anyway). So to be able to spend the next two weeks with her nieces would be the _perfect_ holiday.

She smiled as Thomas came running up to her with excited eyes, a lolly from his spoiling Aunt held tightly in hand.

"Well, my gorgeous big boy, guess what, we're going to have a _special_ holiday this year!" she said, pulling him up in her waiting arms and depositing a kiss to his brow as he giggled with the attention of his mother's love.

**A/N: This chapter is more filler than anything, and I know it's quite indulgent. I had to have Darcy moap a little, right?**

**Well, tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I won't be updating until Boxing Day, because I unfortunately lost a bet with each of my five siblings (you would think the odds of one in six would save me from that particular brand of torture) and I'm going to have to help my mother cook and clean for the next two days, so no time for writing and posting. **

**Merry Christmas, everyone!**


	19. Of Holidays and Heartache

"_I see you and I'm so perplexed, _

_What was I thinking?_

_What will I think of next, _

_And where can I hide?_"

-Ani Difranco, 'Untouchable Face'

"I suddenly feel the need for a sarong," Eerin commented thoughtfully as she inspected a piece of lurid tie-dyed material. Jan laughed.

"If you want a sarong, use the one you brought with you, or the two that you've bought already," she advised with twinkling eyes.

"Mummy, _ice cream_!" huffed Thomas petulantly, tugging on his mother's arm as she looked at a pair of tortoise-shell sunglasses.

"Chook, we're _going_ to get ice cream in a few minutes," Maddy assured her son. He sighed, and seated himself on the floor dramatically, two skinny tanned legs sticking out from beneath his dark blue board shorts, dusty thongs hanging off calloused feet.

"I can take him for ice cream, Maddy, I don't think I'm getting anything here," Jan offered her Aunt, who sighed gratefully.

"Great. I just wanted to pop over to Woolies and get some basics, why don't I meet you there in twenty minutes?" she suggested. Jan nodded.

"Rin? Are you coming?" she questioned, turning to her sister inquisitively.

"I think I'm going to have a quick look at the bookshop, actually. But I should be there in five minutes," she assured her. Jan rolled her eyes, knowing her sister's lack of skill when it came to telling the time, and nodded.

Eerin breathed the salty, warm air in as she stepped out of the surf shop and into the busy, shady footpath lining the skinny road that ran through the Nelson Bay shops. It had been a long drive, but now that they were in Port Stephens she never wanted to leave – but she _was_ looking forward to haunting a few kooky little shops in Morpeth before they headed over to the Hunter Valley. Despite it being May already, the air was humid and the days still warm, and she couldn't wait to have a dip in the ocean or a nice long walk on the beach.

She smiled as she entered the tiny little second-hand bookshop she'd found the moment they arrived in Nelson Bay to pick up the keys for the beach house they were renting out for the week, and she'd been itching to go inside. It was small and cute, with a seemingly never-ending Crime Fiction and Romance section, but there was a wall filled with nicely bound books that she wanted to inspect.

"Here for the holidays?" enquired the elderly man behind the counter with a knowing smile. She laughed, and nodded as she wound her way through piles of books.

"Just a week, I'm a Sydney-sider normally," she answered.

"That's not too far, the lass over there is from England," he informed her, nodding towards the corner of the shop, where a tall, leggy young woman with rolls of perfect dark brown hair stood, reading the blurb of a brightly-bound Dianna Wynne Jones book.

"What part?" Eerin asked curiously, when the girl looked up and blushed.

"Uhh... Derbyshire," she muttered, hazarding a wary glance towards her questioner. She frowned slightly, as if in thought. "I – I'm Georgiana," she added quietly. Eerin smiled. It was clear she was _very_ shy.

"Well I'm Eerin, but you can call my Rin, if you'd like," she replied politely. She girl blinked curiously.

"Eerin... is that a – a common name here?" she questioned thoughtfully. Eerin laughed.

"No, not really. I've never met another Eerin, there's certainly none in Sydney," she answered. Georgiana nodded slowly, blinking her big green eyes. She was quite pretty, actually. Eerin guessed her to be in her late teens, and it was clear from her clothes and impeccably neat appearance that she either had a _very_ well-paying job, or she was quite rich. "So is this your first time to Australia?" she enquired, when the girl didn't respond.

"Hmm? Oh, uh, yes, I'm here visiting my brother. He works in Sydney," she blurted out.

"How long are you here?"

"Just two more weeks, then he has to go back to work and I have to go back to England for University," she replied somewhat awkwardly.

"I'm at Uni too. What are you studying?"

"Uhh... Ancient History," she answered, shifting her weight from one foot to the next.

"I'm English Literature, but I was doing a few Ancient History classes my first semester, it was pretty fun," she informed her cheerfully. The girl nodded, her cheeks flushed. "So... um, where are you staying?" she enquired.

"Sandy Point, over in Corlette," she stammered out. Eerin raised a brow in surprise.

"Really? Corlette is so popular at this time of year. We're staying in a little shack over there too, are you up or down from the reserve?" she enquired.

"Uhh, we're near the marina."

"Yeah, the place we've rented out is a dodgy little hut a bit less than a kilometre up the beach," she explained. "It's a nice place to walk around and have a paddle in, as long as you're careful about the puffer-fish," she laughed. The girl smiled and blushed.

"Maybe I'll see you on the beach," she commented lightly.

"Maybe. I've been here once or twice before, and I tend to hang around on the beach for most of the time," she smiled. Georgiana beamed.

"Excellent! And then maybe I could introduce you to my brother," she said eagerly. Eerin laughed, and nodded.

"That'd be nice; I could introduce you to my sister, Aunt and cousin, if you can catch him," she smiled. Georgiana empathetically nodded, dark curls bobbing up and down as if they literally bounced with life.

"Oh, that would be lovely! I'd _love_ to meet them," she responded eagerly. Eerin laughed at her enthusiasm.

"Great. I was actually supposed to be heading back there in a minute to meet them for ice cream, fancy coming along?" she enquired.

"Of course! I love ice cream, it's so hot here," she exclaimed with a nervous giggle, her pale cheeks flushing pink.

"I've been to England a few times, only in the summer, but I found it pretty cold."

"I suppose compared to this it is, but I'm used to it," Georgiana shrugged, closing the book and stepping up to the counter. She paid for it and slipped it into her (very expensive looking) purse.

"I'll be back," Eerin assured the bookshop owner, who chuckled, and nodded, recognising a book-addict. The pair stepped out into the small lane, immediately falling into comfortable conversation. Georgiana was obviously very awkward, but when she started talking, there was no stopping her. They began conversation on literature, before progressing onto music and fashion, to discover that they had quite similar tastes in most of their likes, however Eerin's were perhaps a little more extreme or underground.

"When I saw the first show for 2010, all I could think was 'Oh my God, Karl, you've taken inspiration from rice farmers', but the Spring Haute Couture was _way_ better, I love all the pastels and the metallic, I think I'll suck up to my brother and make him get everything for me," she giggled excitedly.

"Chanel? I can't afford that sort of stuff, but it _is_ really nice," she laughed. "Although, I _do_ have this absolutely gorgeous Chanel belt I picked up in an op shop in Newtown a few years ago, only five dollars," she added with a grin. "One day, when I'm rich and guiltless, I'm planning on buying myself a million dollar wardrobe and wearing a different outfit everyday," she decided firmly, her dark eyes twinkling with humour as they headed over to the ice creamery where Jan was sitting with young Thomas. "This is my sister Jannali, but you can call her Jan, and my adorable little cousin Tom," she introduced, approaching the two, ruffling Tom's pale blonde hair.

"Hi, I'm Georgiana," she replied politely, giving Jan a nervous smile and smoothing over her sundress. Jan beamed warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, are you here on holiday too?" she questioned kindly. Georgiana nodded.

"I just met Rin in a bookshop. She invited me to come meet you, I hope it's not rude," she replied somewhat nervously. Jan laughed sweetly.

"Not at all! It's good to meet new people. Do you like ice cream?" she questioned, gesturing to the counter.

"Oh, I love it," she gushed immediately.

"I'll be back in a second, Georgiana, what's your favourite flavour?" Eerin questioned, after taking a sneaky lick of Tom's rainbow swirl.

"Oh, I'll get it, you don't –"

"Don't worry about it," she waved her off. "So either pick a flavour or I'll pick it for you, and I have unusual taste," she instructed firmly. Georgiana blushed, and muttered something like 'strawberry'. Eerin headed up to the counter, leaving Georgiana to chat to Jan as Tom devoured his ice cream.

"Thank you," she practically squeaked when Eerin returned, handing her a large strawberry cone, before jumping back to the counter for the third ice cream she'd ordered. "Uh, are you really hungry?" she questioned suspiciously, eying the second cone. Eerin laughed.

"Nup, my Aunt will be here in a minute and she'd kill me if I didn't get her a frozen yogurt," she explained simply. "Next time you should try the chocolate fudge, it's _so_ good," she insisted, taking a lick of her own cone.

"That's my brother's favourite flavour. He _loves_ chocolate," Georgiana commented in surprise.

"Mm, Eerin is a bit of an addict," Jan smiled, glancing to her sister with affectionate eyes.

"_I_ love chocolate," Tom declared loudly. "_And_ I love pink," he added, eying Georgiana's ice cream enviously. She giggled as he crawled over the seat to sit on her lap and take a lick.

"Tom, that's rude," Eerin scolded, but the sternness of tone that was needed was somewhat spoilt with laughter.

"Oh, he's adorable! I _love_ children," Georgiana gushed, giggling as Tom offered her a lick of his rainbow swirl in payment of her strawberry.

"Hmm, my son is sharing his ice cream. Dear Lord, the apocalypse has come," Maddy commented dryly as she approached the party, several lurid green canvas shopping bags hanging over her shoulders.

"Look who I found, Maddy," Eerin boasted, taking the bags off her Aunt and passing her the ice cream immediately. "She was in the bookshop, she's here on holiday too," she explained. Maddy smiled kindly at the girl.

"It's a pleasure. You can call me Maddy," she introduced.

"Georgiana. I hope it's alright, I don't know anyone around here and your niece was so nice," she practically stammered out. The older woman laughed heartily.

"Yeah, Rin can be like that when she's in a good mood. Where are you staying?" she enquired politely.

"Sandy Point. Eerin told me you were staying there too," she answered, not noticing as Tom eagerly snacked on her ice cream.

"Chook, eat your own," Maddy scolded her son. "And yes, we are. Most of the houses there are rental, so it's pretty common," she replied, turning back to Georgiana. "Are you staying here with family or friends?" she enquired.

"My brother, but one of his friends will be coming to stay with us tomorrow. We're both on holiday, although he's been in Australia for a little while now. This is my first trip," she explained excitedly. Maddy raised a brow and smiled.

"Really? What do you think so far?"

"Oh, I love it! The weather is so lovely, the beaches are so beautiful, and everyone here is tanned!" she exclaimed with a sigh. Eerin laughed.

"Tanned? Wow, you must have some very low standards to what makes a tan," she chuckled.

"Anyone darker than I am," Georgiana giggled, showing off her fair white skin.

"Well, girls, I hate to break up the party, but I've got milk in here that'll go off if we don't put it in the fridge soon," Maddy declared, gesturing to the shopping bags. "Georgiana, did you need a ride to Sandy Point, or are you alright staying here?" she questioned kindly.

"My brother dropped me off, I was going to walk back," she answered simply. Eerin sniggered.

"It's further away than you'd expect, you'd fry before you got back," she warned.

"Oh, well, if you have room I wouldn't mind..." she muttered with slightly pink cheeks. Maddy smiled, and finished off her frozen yogurt.

"Not at all. Rin, Jan, be good little nieces and grab the bags. Tom, I can't take you anywhere," she sighed affectionately, wiping her son's grubby face with a paper serviette. "Alright ladies, onwards we march," she declared, taking her son's hand in hers and winding her way through the tourist-crowded street.

The drive took about ten minutes, but it felt much shorter with cheerful conversation. Georgiana was very interesting, and absolutely _loved_ Tom, who loved being spoilt with endless games by her. For the first five minutes of the car trip it was _pat-a-cake pat-a-cake_ _bakers men_ repeated until the novelty was lost on him. Georgiana was very easy to get along with, if not slightly eager to please.

"Alright, Tommy, baby, don't go down to the beach unless one of the girls or I are with you, okay?" Maddy sternly instructed her son when they arrived outside the small two bedroom beach house on a grassy, low cliff slope just above a beautiful white sanded beach. It was one of a long line of beach houses ranging from small to huge, and stretched over the five kilometre shoreline. It was all very picturesque, right next to a small playground park and just down from a reserve, and the house was painted white with a cheerful red door and window panes.

"This is so sweet," commented Georgiana as she got out of the silver Forrester, followed by Jan and Eerin. Tom was already delighting himself by trying to climb up the Hills Hoist.

"It's pretty cute, but let's hope the fridge is working before the milk goes off," Eerin laughed, following her Aunt as they strolled up to the front door. The door was unlocked and they stepped inside, pulling open windows and curtains to let some air into the room, which blew cool off the ocean and hung over the tiled floor. It was quaint and a bit simple, but it had all they needed and would do quite nicely for them. It was made up of four rooms, a combined kitchen, dining and living area, the main bedroom and then a second, as well as a small bathroom. The fridge was indeed working, as well as all the appliances, and after a quick wipe down with a damp cloth and some spray disinfectant the groceries were put in the pantry and bags in rooms.

"Is Tom still on the beach with Jan and Georgiana?" Maddy questioned Eerin when she stepped into the kitchen after giving the bathroom a quick clean so it was fit for use.

"Yeah, I think so. She's a cute kid, I think Tom gets along well with her," she replied, glancing out the French doors to the grassy slope and the gorgeous beach outside.

"She's a bit unusual, but very sweet. And she's eighteen, you can't call her a kid when you're only two years older," she reminded her sternly. Eerin laughed.

"She makes me feel older. Should I ask her to stay for tea?" she questioned, tying her dark hair up.

"Walk up the beach with her and ask her brother if he wants to as well. I just ordered enough pizza to last us through the next ice age," she suggested.

"Alright, I should be back soon. Did you need anymore help in here?" she offered. Maddy waved her off.

"I'm good. Go ask before it gets dark," she instructed. Eerin laughed, and stepped onto the veranda. She counted twenty steps before she was on the beach, where Georgiana, Jan and Tom were all racing each other and braving the foamy waves, which crashed against their calves.

"Hey, Georgiana! Do you want to go ask your brother if he wants to come over for tea?" Eerin called out. The girl turned with an excited expression.

"Oh, that'd be wonderful! Shall we both go?" she questioned, running up to her new friend. Eerin laughed, and nodded. "Brilliant! It's up this way," she instructed, practically dragging her up the beach.

Eerin couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She got the impression this girl didn't have many friends, despite her bubbly personality. She just seemed... unsure of herself. They walked up the beach where the nicer rental properties were located, until arriving at a glamorous double-story Victorian-style house with a large veranda and wide French doors.

"I'm sure he'll want to come, he'd _love_ you," Georgiana assured her excitedly as they strolled up to the house. "Hallo_oooooaaaaa!_ Anyone home?" she called, stepping onto the veranda. "I'll just go look for him, I'll be back in a second," she said, dashing into the house.

Georgiana was bubbling over with excitement. She was _sure_ that the girl she'd met in the bookshop was _the _Eerin Beaumont, she had the name, she looked like the woman her brother had drawn in his notebook, although her hair was much shorter, _and_ she was just as wonderful as he'd described! She knew he'd be reluctant at first, but when he saw her again he was be so happy, he'd return to the wonderful big brother she knew he was and things would only improve!

"Fitz! I've had the _best_ day," she gushed, running up to her brother when she discovered him in the small home office, tapping away on his laptop.

"What was so special about it, cricket?" he enquired, glancing up from his computer momentarily to take in his sister's excited expression.

"I met a girl at the bookshop, she's _so_ wonderful, we talked and we had ice cream together and I went over to her place, she's staying here with her sister and Aunt and cousin, and she's invited us both to dinner!" she informed him eagerly, practically bouncing up and down. Darcy chuckled.

"And I assume you want me to go?" he questioned. She nodded emphatically. He smiled, but it looked more like a wince. "Ana, I'm not really..." he trailed off, before sighing.

"William Darcy, you've been moping around since I came here. It's about time you have a little fun," she said sternly. He gave a breathy chuckle, and nodded.

"Alright, although I'm in no fit state to be seen," he commented, standing up. He probably meant the fact that he hadn't shaved for several weeks, his hair was now in desperate need of a trim, and he was missing his usual freshly pressed slacks and white collared shirt.

"You look gorgeous. Now come on, she's outside!" she commanded him, grabbing his hand and pulling him out to the veranda.

Eerin turned when she heard voices and the sound of Georgiana returning. She came out first, tugging on the arm of a taller male.

At first she didn't recognise him – how could she? He was so... _different_.

Gone was his stuffy and incredibly neat style of dress and perfectly groomed hair, he wore a pair of jeans and blue-grey tee-shirt with joggers (expensive and very fancy slipons, but joggers they remained), his dark hair had grown a good inch or two, with perhaps one or two more grey hairs than she recalled; he obviously hadn't shaved in a while and his stubble had grown to become a more permanent beard-like feature of his face, and he had dark bags beneath his bright green eyes that made him look somewhat worn.

She swallowed and felt her heart flip before constricting. It was him, though, and there was no denying it.

"This is Eerin. Eerin, this is my dad slash brother, I call him Fitz, but he prefers Darcy," Georgiana introduced proudly. Darcy swallowed rather obviously.

"H – Hi," he murmured; his voice strained and somewhat choked.

"Hey," she replied weakly, lowering her eyes in shame. Feelings that she had been trying to ignore instantly swum back to her. She'd felt so guilty after reading his letter, so _stupid_, and so terribly ashamed of her actions and behaviour. She'd been so desperately out of line when all he wanted to do was show her his feelings, and yes, he had been wrong, but so had she.

And now he was standing before her, and his sister... his lovely and charming sister who had been through so much... she didn't know if she could handle it.

"Uh, sorry, I just – uhh," she murmured, suddenly feeling sick. She stepped away from the couple. Darcy reached out to steady her.

"Eerin, are you –" he began, before stopping himself, and removing his hand from her wrist. "I'm sorry," he sighed quietly, as if in shame.

"No. Don't be, please," she insisted. "Uhh, how have you been?" she asked quietly. He gave a pained smile.

"Oh, well enough, I suppose," he replied with a forced cheerfulness. "And you?"

"Good. Yeah, good," she answered awkwardly, not meeting his eyes. "You – uh, your hair is different," she commented, hugging herself to try and fend away some of the horrible feelings that were threatening to overtake her.

Most of all she was in shock, shock of seeing him, shock that she was no longer angry with him, she just felt... a combination of gratitude and guilt for him having loved her, and loved her enough that he was able to explain himself and not hate her. Although, he had every right to – but standing before her, he didn't look like his eyes were filled with hatred. Concern, perhaps, but she did not believe he felt strongly for her any longer. He didn't love or hate her, she was probably just a mistake of his past feelings.

"So is yours," he replied, as if in want of better words. She laughed awkwardly.

"Yeah, uh, it started off as only a few inches, but I suddenly felt a need to be androgynous," she informed him with a shrug.

"No, it uh, it suits you very well," he muttered, a little hastily. "And – uh, I like how it frames your face. Short hair... suits you," he added, with nigh-tangible awkwardness. She blushed.

"Oh. Do you to know each other?" Georgiana questioned innocently. A little _too_ innocently, if Eerin thought about it.

"Your brother is one of my Professors at uni, Georgiana," she informed her.

"You told her your real name?" Darcy exclaimed in surprise. Georgiana rolled her eyes.

"Stop fussing, I use it sometimes. By the way, Rin, I prefer 'Ana'," she informed her new friend. Eerin nodded, fighting the feeling that she had just been set up.

"So... uh, well, will you two be coming to tea then?" she questioned, when she had worked up enough courage and the silence got to be too much.

"Of _course_ we will! Come on Fitz, you _have_ to meet Tom, he's so sweet," Georgiana, or Ana, Eerin supposed, urged her brother.

"You don't have to feel compelled to –" he tried to begin, turning to Eerin, but she stopped him.

"No, it's fine. But you might want to grab a jumper, I think it might get chilly tonight," she instructed. He smiled and nodded, ducking back into the house. "Alright, spill. You knew who I was the whole time," she said blankly, turning to Ana, who now blushed.

"I'm sorry. It's just... he told me about you, and he's been so lonely. When I met you and I realised who you were..." she trailed off, before sighing. "He's all I have, Eerin. He's my whole world and he's miserable and hurting. It's all I could do," she explained helplessly. Eerin lowered her eyes, and nodded.

"I understand. I guess... well, I guess I understand you," she murmured. _But it's not like it's going to change anything, not after all that's passed between us_, she thought to herself.

"Do you hate me?" Ana questioned fearfully. Eerin smiled, and shook her head.

"No. It just shows me that you're sneaky, and proves that we're going to get along well. I'm not angry with you," she assured her. Ana gave a relieved sigh.

"Good, because I'm not really... well, I'm not that good at making friends, and I – well, yeah..." she trailed off with flushing cheeks.

"Don't worry about it. But please don't get your hopes up, this won't change anything," she assured her firmly. Ana shrugged.

"You never know," she replied simply, as Darcy came back out of the house, and locked the French doors behind him. "Alright, let's go then!" she declared, purposely walking ahead of them. Darcy awkwardly took his place by Eerin's side as they walked in silence.

"So... you're here with someone?" he questioned when the silence became too much.

"Yeah, my Aunt and cousin, and Jan, too," she answered almost instantly, wincing with how nervous she sounded. She was so embarrassed for him to see her standing on his veranda with no notice. "Maddy, my Aunt, that is, lives in the Hunter Valley; it's not that far from here. She comes here a bit in the holidays because Tom loves the beach," she explained.

"And Tom is...?"

"Her son, my cousin. He's really sweet, your sister loves him already," she replied. Darcy slowly nodded, keeping his eyes glued on the grass before them as they walked.

"I'm sorry about Ana. She – well, she likes to play games," he sighed suddenly. She smiled.

"That's okay, she gave a sort of explanation," she assured him. He looked up in surprise and concern. "She's worried about you. She thinks your 'lonely'," she explained. He gave a somewhat forced chuckle.

"Uhh... I don't really know how to respond," he admitted. She laughed.

"Wow. That's a first, you know," she commented. His chuckle sounded more sincere this time.

"I suppose it is," he conceded, returning his gaze to his shoes with so much sadness that she thought her heart might break.

"I missed you, you know," she commented suddenly. He looked up in surprise and – dare she think it – hope. "I guess it's because I have a lot to apologise for, and I feel... well, I really feel like I need to explain myself," she said.

"You have – you have nothing to be sorry for, Eerin," he assured her. "_Nothing_. It's _I _that should –"

"But you already did, and you didn't even need to. I was so stupid, I didn't deserve an explanation," she retorted. He gave a weak sort of smile.

"You're not stupid. You're never stupid."

"Hmm, I have a few family members and friends that might want to argue that with you," she laughed, as they approached the beach house. Ana was already at the beach with Tom and Jan, and Maddy was standing on the veranda with a bottle of wine, watching them as the sun started to sink.

Darcy watched her walk up to a pretty blonde woman on the veranda at the back of a small but quaint beach house, standing back as they exchanged a few words. The blonde woman glanced at him with slight concern, and back to Eerin, before nodding. Darcy pretended to watch his devious little trickster of a sister playing with a blonde-headed toddler by the waves as Eerin returned to him.

"Did you want to come meet my Aunt?" she offered. He nodded, and followed her back to the veranda. The woman was a lot younger than he had expected, particularly as she had a small son, only in her mid to late twenties. She was quite beautiful, and he could instantly see the resemblance to Jannali. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and kind blue eyes, the ideal sort of Aunt. "Maddy, this is William Darcy, my Professor, and this is my Aunt Maddy," she introduced. Darcy shook her hand politely and smiled.

"It's a pleasure. Eerin's mentioned you once or twice," he replied. She rolled her eyes.

"She loves me, the little suck-up. So you're Georgiana's brother?" she questioned, to which he nodded.

"I'm sorry if she's imposed on you, she's normally quite polite," he replied. Maddy instantly waved him off.

"She's a dear, and she's kept Tom busy this afternoon, which is very helpful for me," she laughed. He smiled, and glanced back at the young woman he had raised as she cart-wheeled up the beach. "I've ordered pizzas; they should be here any minute, so I hope you're hungry. But my experience of men tells me that they're _always_ hungry," she quipped.

"Yes, I think you have that right," he chuckled.

"Well you two might as well go down on the beach, I'm waiting up here for the pizza, so I'll call you when it comes," Maddy suggested, sitting back down and taking a sip of wine.

"Shall we?" Darcy questioned, gesturing down to the beach. Eerin smiled, and followed him over to the white sands.

"Hi!" came an excited cry, as Tom dashed up (admittedly on wobbly feet) to the new face, giggling as Ana chased him.

"Hullo young man," Darcy greeted, crouching down on his knees. Tom held his hand up, and Darcy responded by giving him a high-five. He giggled.

"Hi!" he repeated eagerly. Darcy chuckled. "I'm T – Thomas M – Matt – Matt – Hew Gardin. Er," he introduced proudly.

"You can call me Fitz. Can you say that, Thomas Matthew Gardiner?" he questioned patiently.

"Bits. Fitsssss. Yeah," he replied with a broad grin. Darcy smiled.

"Well, that's very good. Do you like the beach, Tom?" he enquired. Tom excitedly nodded.

"Yes! Lots. I love sand," he declared, taking a handful and squeezing it tightly in his childish hands.

"Sand _is_ quite nice," he agreed with a laughing sort of smile.

"Is that really Professor Darcy?" Jan whispered to her sister, staring at the man in complete shock. "He's so... it's like he's a completely different person!" she exclaimed. Eerin smiled, and nodded, unable to take her eyes off him.

"No. He's always been like this, I think, but we... well, I guess we never bothered to get to know him," she sighed with a hint of bitterness.

And she was bitter because she had never thought she could love him more than now, when all hope was in vain. He was lost to her because of her own stupidity and prejudice. He'd hurt her pride and vanity in their first meeting, and she judged him against that for the rest of their acquaintance – how could she be so _stupid_?

They were called up within minutes to eat, Tom swung over Darcy's shoulder as he giggled with excitement, demanding that his captor swing him around or something equally fun. Darcy chuckled as he deposited the young boy in a chair by the table, where several pizza boxes were now sitting.

"You're pretty good at that, Darcy," Maddy commented, pouring out a few glasses of wine for the adults, and a glass of lemonade for her son.

"That's because he's done it before, Maddy," Ana laughed, taking a seat, still energised and excited from the beach.

"He raised Ana, Maddy," Eerin informed her Aunt, whose brows rose in surprise.

"Really? Well, I suppose that explains it," she smiled, ruffling her son's hair as she passed him his drink. "Was it just you?" she questioned, to which he nodded.

"For the most part. I had a little help, but... well, I suppose I didn't like sharing Ana," he replied affectionately.

"Good on you. Single parenting isn't as bad as they say," she smiled, taking a piece of pizza and sitting down. Eerin glanced to her sister with concern, but Jan was staring with determination at her pizza, as if she just didn't want to think about the little life in her stomach. "You teach at Sydney, right?" Maddy questioned, to which he nodded once more.

"Symbols and Iconography. Your niece is my best student," he informed her, the woman in questioning blushing red.

"He's lying, Maddy," she laughed.

"Oh no, Fitz _never_ lies! Not even to me about Father Christmas!" Ana exclaimed.

"Why would you lie about Santa?" Tom questioned suddenly, with a mouthful of cheese and pineapple.

"Because Ana was naughty this year, but she still wants presents," Darcy informed the young child dutifully.

"Well you can't have them, they're all for me," he decided quite happily. The adults chuckled at the adorable image he presented.

"Good to know he's got his priorities straight," Maddy laughed, handing Darcy a glass of wine.

"Wine and pizza. We're so classy here," Eerin sighed laughingly. "We should probably amend that, maybe actually _cook_ dinner one night this week," she said thoughtfully.

"You could always come over to our place and teach me how to cook," Ana suggested with a laugh.

"Good idea. She's not very good at it, the poor dear," Darcy chuckled, ducking as his sister made to wack him on the arm.

"But I'm serious! Maybe tomorrow we could do that," she offered.

"Well we're not doing anything, we should demonstrate how meals _should_ happen," Maddy suggested. Jan and Eerin grinned.

"A five hour repast it is then," Eerin declared with determination.

"Ana, you know what's happening tomorrow," Darcy reminded his sister sternly.

"Chase won't mind, I'm sure he'll enjoy it too," she waved him off. Jannali suddenly went pale.

"Ch – Chase Bingley?" she questioned quietly. "He's coming here? Tomorrow?"

"Jan? Are you okay?" Eerin enquired after her sister, concern evident in her voice. Jan forced a smile.

"I'm fine, Rin, don't worry about me. I'm just not really that hungry," she murmured, standing up. "I think I'm going to watch the sunset on the beach. I'll be up soon," she decided, taking her nearly full glass of wine with her as she strolled over to the white sands.

"Is this the boy she was crying over, or was this the boy _you_ were crying over?" Maddy questioned Eerin the moment Jan was gone. Eerin blushed.

"He's Jan's ex, the one I mentioned to you," she said simply. Maddy nodded in understanding.

"Oh, should I – oh no, what have I done?" Ana exclaimed in fear, glancing back to Jan with wide eyes.

"It's fine, Ana. Don't worry, Jan is a big girl," Eerin assured her.

"I didn't know, I had no idea," she murmured ashamedly. Eerin squeezed her hand and gave her a comforting smile.

"You've done nothing wrong. Jan is just... well, you'd have to live with her for a good twenty years to understand her, that's all," she explained. Ana nodded, slightly relieved, but still concerned.

Darcy sat in silence, glaring at his pizza. If there was any sign that told him of Jannali's true feelings, it was that. How could he have been so wrong? How could he read symbols all day and night for years, understanding the most minute of details, but not notice when a young woman was in love with his best friend?

"Janni isn't happy," Tom declared, staring over at his cousin with a determined frown on his face. He picked up the box of pizza he was eating from, slid ungracefully off his chair, and toddled over to her.

"See, all these experts try to say that kids don't recognise adult emotions, and I can safely say they're _full of it_," Maddy declared, watching her son go with pride.

"He's a good boy," Darcy complimented. She grinned, and took a bite out of her pizza.

"Maddy is insanely proud of Tom, you don't need to tell her," Eerin laughed.

"It's true," Maddy nodded. "I am. He's my pride and joy, I'd enter him into a show if I didn't have an ounce of integrity," she agreed.

"_Fitz_ entered me in a baby competition, you know," Ana commented with disgust. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"_Richard_ entered you into it, and you _won_, cricket," he reminded his sister, who only rolled her green eyes.

"So you weren't the insanely proud and enthusiastic parent, were you, Darcy?" Maddy laughed. Darcy chuckled.

"I was, actually. I spoilt her to no ends, played with her all the time, gave her just about everything she wanted," he replied with a grin. "And now look what happened..." he sighed teasingly. Ana laughed and attempted to glare at her brother.

"Were you one of those Daddy's that dressed his little girl up in as much pink and lace as possible?" she enquired with an amused tone.

"Oh, yes. She wore dresses and skirts and ribbons and lace, all in pink, mind you, from the moment she could fit into them," he laughed. "And she had a pink nursery, too. I was heartbroken when she decided at the age of twelve that she preferred yellow," he chuckled affectionately.

"I would have been devastated if Tom was a girl, I don't think I could have handled it," Maddy laughed, smiling over at the silhouette of her son.

"I think I'll be content to be an Aunty," Eerin laughed. "As long as I get to assist in the naming. I think just naming it would be the fun part," she added. "So all my sister's are going to have children called 'Heathcliff Almàsy Stephen Thornton' and 'Catherine Katherine Florence Lisa Mitchell', and they will reign supreme over other boringly named children," she decided with a grin.

"I understand _none_ of those names," Ana laughed.

"Heathcliff is _Wuthering Heights_, Almàsy is _The English Patient_, I've heard you have an obsession with Stephen Fry, and Thornton is _North and South_, but I don't understand the others," Darcy commented thoughtfully.

"Well there's Catherine with a 'C' from _Wuthering Heights_, Katherine with a 'K' from _The English Patient_, 'Florence' from the band _Florence and the Machine_, and Lisa Mitchell because she's awesome, and I think everyone should want to make babies with her," she explained simply. He chuckled into his wine.

"I should have known," he said.

"Jeez, sir, you're not keeping up with the programme at all," she teasingly scolded. He gave another laugh.

"You really must stop calling me that!" he objected, his emerald eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh, Miss Beaumont, you really _must_ stop, or I simply shan't educate you any further," she replied in a mocking English accent, a smirk playing on her lips.

"I don't talk like that," he defended between sniggers.

"Of course you do. All Brits talk like that," she teased, her voice firm and determined. Darcy smiled, his eyes warm and alive with emotion as he gazed at her from across the table. She blushed, her lids fluttering and the edges of her lips curved upwards, suddenly pretending she was fascinated with her slice of pizza.

Maddy glanced between them with a small frown. Her niece hadn't told her anything about what was troubling her so, in fact she'd not even acknowledged that there was something wrong. But Maddy was sharper than that – when Eerin was quiet and reserved there was obviously something dreadfully wrong, and if she wasn't mistaken, her handsome professor might just be the cause behind that.

"So, Darcy, planning on having your own kids one day, or was one enough for you?" Maddy questioned suddenly, interrupting the coy little game of blushes and smiles.

"Oh, definitely. Not for some time, I don't think, but I am shamefully fond of babies. It's unseemly for a man my age to be so maternal," he replied almost instantly, with a slight smile.

"How old _are_ you?" she enquired curiously. He gave a slightly lopsided smile that could have sent every woman in the surrounding regions into a nervous flutter.

"Hmm. How old do I look?" he responded, that charming grin widening.

"Not a day over a hundred and two," quipped Eerin, earning her a snort of laughter from Ana and a playful scowl from her teacher. "He's not actually annoyed with me; his hearing aid isn't on so he has no idea what I said. He just _assumed_ I was being mean, which means he's being quite critical of poor innocent me," she teased. That got her a chuckle from him; and an eruption of giggles from his sister.

"Horrid girl. I'm not _nearly_ as old," he scolded, but any attempt at force was lost with his laughing smile.

"Well I'm going to guess somewhere in the thirties," Maddy said boldly.

"I'm thinking... mid thirties? Thirty-five, maybe?" Eerin offered, with an adorable little thoughtful crease beneath her full pink lips and between her brows.

"Four, actually, but you were very close," he praised.

"He'll be thirty-five though, in a few months," Ana interjected, poking him in the side.

"Hmm, as painful as it is," he practically winced. "I feel so much older than all of you here. You're all babies," he sighed. Maddy laughed.

"Uhh, baby? Probably not, I'll be twenty-eight next month," she smiled.

"That's still quite young, you shouldn't be concerned," he assured her kindly.

"So how old were you when you became Ana's guardian?" Maddy enquired curiously, sipping her wine.

"I was sixteen at the time, although for the first few months I was finishing up my A-levels and my cousin, Richard, was looking after her for the most part with his wife," he explained.

"Richard is _married_?" Eerin exclaimed. Darcy smirked into his wine glass.

"Richard has been married twice, actually, once when he was in his very early twenties and then again a few years later, however both marriages fell apart within two years of the nuptials. He's now a confirmed bachelor," he informed her, trying not to laugh.

"He's such a man-wench," she giggled into her pizza, pulling her knees up and folding them beneath her.

"Anyway, two months after she went into Richard's care I graduated from Eton and became a full-time father until University began, even then I was taking her into classes and changing nappies between lectures," he explained with a shrug.

"He was the best Dad I could ever wish for, he gave me _everything_ I wanted," Ana insisted with a grin. He rolled his eyes.

"And now she's an absolute princess. Maddy, I would advise you not to spoil Thomas between the ages of eleven and sixteen – those are the worst years," he warned with playful seriousness. Maddy laughed.

"I'm a Mum, I can't help but spoil him," she smiled, glancing back to her son affectionately.

"He's a lovely boy, you've obviously done a good job so far," he complimented. Maddy beamed.

"So how long will you be staying here?" she questioned.

"Just until the holidays end, and then I'm back in Sydney and Ana is back in England," he said.

"And you go back too, when your class is over?"

"The class I'm currently teaching is only for one semester, but in another three months, for the students who are doing art history, studies of religion and ancient culture or ancient history, or even for particularly talented students," he glanced to Eerin, "I have a second, more advanced class. But you are correct; I will most likely return to England at the end of this year."

Maddy glanced to her niece. For some reason, Eerin looked slightly put out at that answer. So it was clear – there _was_ something between them, but she knew that there was no chance Eerin would ever admit it, when it came to human relationships she was a completely closed book. She'd never been able to get a squeak out of her in all their years of knowing each other when it came to men, _or_ women.

So that left only a slightly more unconventional approach to make the girl realise what she felt for her handsome professor.

"He's pretty cute, you know," Maddy commented casually to her niece as they took empty plates and pizza boxes into the kitchen while the others entertained Thomas on the beach.

"I know a lot of people consider him quite handsome," she conceded, her mask of reserve not even chipping.

"Well I certainly do, and he's single, too," she added meaningfully, beginning to rinse the dishes in the sink. "I mean, he's maybe a little older than I normally go for, but it's only six years."

She grinned as she heard her niece stop suddenly while she tore the empty pizza boxes up for the recycling bin.

"Oh?"

"Well, he's pretty much perfect, you know," she began. "He's gorgeous, clever, has a good job, _loves_ Tom, and he's already raised a kid of his own, _and_ he's got lovely manners. What more could a girl want?" she shrugged, pulling open the dishwasher drawer and beginning to put the plates in.

"I guess that's one way of looking at it," Eerin answered, her voice a little strained, and from the sounds of it, she was tearing up those boxes with a little more force than necessary.

"Think I should go for it?" Maddy questioned finally, turning to face her niece, who forced a pained smile.

"Sure, I mean, you both deserve to be happy, right?" she muttered as cheerfully as she could. "I'll just take these out to the big bin," she decided, lowering her head, and leaving the room as quickly as possible. Maddy grinned to herself.

It was long after Eerin had left that Darcy came in with the empty wine glasses.

"Thanks, Darcy, I'll clean them," she said, refusing to let him near the sink. He gave a small smile.

"I don't mind, really," he assured. She firmly shook her head, and took them from his hands.

"I'll just pop them in the dishwasher, and I'd be a terrible host if I made you do the washing up," she insisted, taking them from his hands before he could protest. "So you and Eerin?" she questioned, as the kitchen was filled with the clink of glasses. She looked up to see his face, coloured with surprise, lips pursed.

"What exactly are you implying?" he enquired slowly. Maddy inwardly smirked – the pair of them were so easy to rile up!

"Well, are you sleeping together?" she shrugged.

"Of course not!" he insisted firmly, almost affronted by the suggestion.

"But you want to be," she stated simply. He huffed, and glared at the fridge.

"That would be unprofessional, to have such feelings for a student."

"But you _do_ have those feelings for her, it's pretty damn obvious, Darcy," she retorted, placing her hands on her hips. "She's my niece, so I have a right to know."

"My – My _feelings_ for Eerin are a private matter, and I would thank you not to question me on them," he said coolly. Maddy rolled her eyes.

"Well, I doubt you're going to be particularly open, so I won't ask you questions, but that's alright, because I _did_ notice the fact that you couldn't stop looking at her all night," she accused. He lowered his eyes, not denying, but also not confirming. "Listen, I don't care. I mean, she's _very_ young, and you're her teacher, but Eerin's never been one to care about conventions or what other people think is wrong and right," she assured him.

"I've noticed that," he muttered, leaning against the bench. Maddy wanted to roll her eyes again, she was hoping he would have opened up by now, but obviously that was a bit too much to expect.

"I just think I might need to warn you about a few things," she said diligently. "First of all, she's very tough on the outside, and it would take a nuclear missile to break her little suit of armour. She's highly emotional, too – so she gets upset, but it takes a _lot_ to actually hurt her, and whatever you did to her before the holidays, you did more than upset her, you got under her skin like I've never seen anyone do," she began. His gaze did not flicker upwards to meet hers.

"How do you know –"

"It's obvious, Darcy, to someone who knows her well," she assured him after a scoff. "That tells me that she cares about you – a _lot_. She might not realise it yet, but right here, right now, you're the only thing in her world and _now_ would be a good opportunity to take advantage of that," she advised. His grip on the edge of the counter tightened. "She doesn't love passively, or easily. She gives her all, but it takes a hell of a long time to get that trust from her. She's a passionate girl, Darcy, but I have a suspicion that you're just as bad," she continued.

"I know most of this."

"She doesn't know what she's doing."

He looked up at this with confusion.

"She's new to the whole 'relationship' thing. She's been so confused over her sexuality for years that she's not had _time_ to be someone's girlfriend – but it's pretty clear that you're not just in this for fun, and it's obvious that you're a man of the world," she said simply.

"And what makes you think that?" he frowned, as if slightly offended.

"I'm sorry, any man who looks like you do and who was staring at my niece like that tonight has had their legs uncrossed for quite some time," she stated unabashedly. He looked mildly affronted at her forwardness, but did not reply. "You might know what you're doing, but she has no idea. I'm not going to give you some angsty 'she's been hurt before' speech, because she hasn't. She's had problems, but most of them were her doing. She's very young, and her naïveté might make her leap into this without considering the consequences," she warned.

"And you think it's my duty to consider what might happen?" he questioned after a short pause. Maddy shrugged.

"You're smart. So is she, but she's inexperienced and headstrong. Just be careful, and lead her in the right direction, Darcy, that's all I'm saying," she said simply. "I don't want to discourage you. I think she really cares about you, but she doesn't want the same things as you, not yet. Give her time, and don't push her," she finished. He lowered his head, and nodded, deep in thought.

"I think I just worked out where Eerin got that brain of hers," he muttered. Maddy smirked.

"Hey, I'm not just a pretty face."

He chuckled, and nodded.

"I won't say anything, but if you want her, Darcy, go get her," she advised. He hid a smile, and slipped out of the kitchen.

Maddy smirked to herself. As much as she would have liked Darcy to herself, he needed a good slap in the face and a kick in that lovely bum of his.

Besides, she had Tom, and one man was more than enough for her.

**A/N: Alright, nice big long chapter as your belated Christmas present my lovelies. I personally had a very... interesting Christmas... But, on the bright side, ****I GOT AN iPAD!**** I had no idea I was getting it and have no idea what to do with it. I want to use it for University, but I'm not sure of what capacity I should be using it for. So if anyone has one, how do you use it? What are some good apps? How do you think it could be helpful in my University studies?**

**Anyways, so, please review, now that we've seen a bit more of Ana and Darcy and Maddy. Next chapter, some conversations between Ana and Darcy about the Eerin situation :D**


	20. Of Musings and Markets

"_I know that things are broken,_

_I know there's too many words left unsaid_

_You say you have spoken,_

_And like the coward I am, I hang my head,_"

-Mumford & Sons, 'Liar'

"So."

Darcy turned his head to see his sister standing in the doorway of the room he had designated his study, her dark hair pulled up into a ponytail, clad in her Winnie the Pooh pyjamas, looking quite ready for bed.

"So," he mimicked, spinning around in the chair aimlessly, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

Primarily he was still shocked to the core that he had seen Eerin. The coincidence was too much.

But she was _there_, she was perfectly real and most certainly not a dream; his mind could not have thought up such detail as her newly cut hair, or the fact that she looked somewhat paler and even a little thinner than before; she was there and he was lost. He was still angry, too, if he wanted to be honest – he was angry with her for being just as lovely as he had remembered her and so damn unaffected by his affections, but mostly he was angry with himself for making such a mess of something that should never have occurred. He should _never_ have pushed her the way he did, he shouldn't have even written that letter, when it was such a clear disregard of the unspoken boundaries he should have acknowledged.

But worse than all this was the fact that after screwing up in the most extreme way and being separated from her for a several weeks, he still, despite the perpetual state of aching he was in, was completely besotted by her. When she left something inside him had burst and the flood gates were open; he might as well have been bleeding inwardly from the moment she said 'no'. But he couldn't blame that on her completely. It was a build up of the past eighteen years, or so it seemed.

And he hated that. It was pathetic and indulgent, he'd always tried not to let his emotions get the best of him, but here they were, besting him in every regard. He was running on autopilot, and somehow, cruelly, his mind had decided that Eerin was the only cure for his melancholia, despite the fact that she was only half the reason for it.

"She's wonderful," Ana sighed dreamily, throwing herself down on the lounge, cushions bouncing to the floor. "Seriously, Fitz. She's the coolest person I've ever met. She's like one of those elegant bohemian girls you see in cafés, and you look at them and think; 'you don't need to do anything but sit around and be cool'," she gushed excitedly. Darcy chuckled, tapping his lips with two slender fingers.

"Yes. Quite," he agreed, staring out the window to the dark beach before him, lights flashing across the black ocean in a Gatsby-esque display of poignant romanticism.

"I just loved her hair. I wish I had the face to pull it off, but it'd just make me look stupid," she sighed dramatically.

"Nonsense, cricket," he admonished, to her ill-concealed delight. "So... You liked her?" he questioned with some hesitation. She rolled her green eyes.

"How can I _not_?" she retorted, before grinning. "Seriously, can you marry her? She would be the _best_ big sister in the world," she eagerly begged. He smiled softly.

Women had always been a strange sort of topic between them. He had tried to keep his relationships with women separate from Ana's growing up. He didn't introduce any of his female friends to her, for the most part because he didn't think he could stand sharing her with anyone, but also because he had never met a woman he could see as a part of his life for more than the immediate future. Girlfriends came and went, one-night stands and flings were more common than actual loving relationships, and for the most part, he avoided informing any prospective female about Ana at all, to save the awkwardness when they finally realised that he never intended on them becoming a part of her life.

But as Ana got older, she couldn't fail to notice when he occasionally came home much later than usual, smelling of women's perfume with lipstick on his neck. She was never blind to it, but it passed unspoken between them until she finally knew the truth about her parents.

Darcy winced to recall that memory. Oh, how she had cried and hated him. Not for keeping such a thing a secret, but for telling her and ruining the happy life they had made for themselves. Since then she would push him in the direction of women, as if she could sense that he had been pushed into becoming a father before he had a chance to enjoy the affection of a woman his own age.

He was a man, as he often had to remind himself. He was a man who couldn't live without the attentions of women. He was a man who loved to kiss and touch and hold and _be_ kissed and touched and held, and women were ideal for that purpose. But somehow, the term 'women' had turned to a much simpler, specific woman. Eerin Beaumont.

"Ana, it's not quite so simple. Whilst..." he stopped himself and sighed. "I feel – very deeply for her. But she's my student, and very young," he explained finally.

"Who cares? She's –"

"Ana, I'm not as strong as you seem to think I am," he interrupted her suddenly, his tone tinged with desperation. "She's already said 'no' once. Please, _please_, don't allow me to get my hopes up, only to be rejected by her again," he begged. Ana's face instantly fell, and she nodded.

"I'm sorry," she whispered quietly. He leant forwards with a groan, running his hands through his dark hair.

"No, Ana, it's me. I'm just – it's been a long day," he muttered. He heard her pull herself off the lounge and then felt her give him a tight hug, for which he was thankful.

But it was the wrong woman hugging him. He wanted _Eerin_ to be comforting him.

"I'm going to bed. Night, Fitz," she murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his temple.

"Good night, cricket," he replied, before she left the room and closed the door.

Darcy tapped his lips once more.

Sometimes, he thought he could still feel Eerin's kiss.

Maddy wanted to laugh at the state of misery her two nieces seemed to be in, but she honestly couldn't find it in her.

"How was your walk?" she enquired to a strangely silent Eerin as she walked off the veranda into the cottage.

"Hmm? Oh, nice," she muttered, glancing to her sister with concern. Jannali at the table sat poking her porridge with a sullen expression, as she had been for the past half-hour. Since last night she had barely said a word, and Maddy was quite certain it had something to do with 'Chase', whoever he was.

"Well have some brekkie and we'll walk up to Darcy and Ana's place, they said they wanted to go to the market before their guest arrives," she instructed as she fixed Tom's toast and tea.

"Is Tom awake?" she asked, mindlessly sorting through different flavours of porridge on the kitchen counter.

"Not yet, he didn't sleep that well last night, so he'll probably need to have a nap sometime today," she replied, passing her niece a large mug of tea. Eerin gave a grateful smile, before giving up on the porridge. She sat down beside the silent Jan, and the two stared out to the beach without another word. Maddy sighed. They obviously weren't going to be very fun that day.

"Mummy, is it cold or hot today?" came a call from the bedroom Maddy shared with her son.

"Warm, sweetie," she called in return. Tom appeared a few moments later in shorts, a shirt, sandals and a hat, looking very pleased with himself.

"Mummy, are Rinny and Janni happy today?" he enquired, as his mother set his breakfast before him. She ruffled his hair.

"Of course, they're always happy to see you. We're going to go to the markets this morning, but we'll go over to see Fitz and Ana first. How does that sound?" she replied with a smile.

"Good. I like Fits," he informed her with a wide grin, before stuffing as much toast as he could handle into his mouth. Maddy's laughter turned into an exasperated sigh when Jan and Eerin made no movements, content to sulk.

"Well. Looks like we're going to have fun _today_," she muttered beneath her breath.

Eerin checked her appearance in the bedroom mirror one more time before she dug her thongs out of her suitcase. Her cream sundress was sweet and feminine enough to balance out her short hair, she looked a little pale, but hopefully the warm day would restore some of her colour – the rest she really couldn't change. She found herself wishing she were prettier than her Aunt.

She was filled with a combination of envy and misery after speaking to Maddy the night before. After all, she was gorgeous, closer to Darcy's age, more responsible and she was incredibly charming, why shouldn't he like her? And why shouldn't she like _him_? He was gorgeous, intelligent, cultured, mature and well-respected, any woman would be lucky to have him!

She stopped herself before her thoughts got too out of hand. It was ridiculous. He was her teacher, and he _couldn't_ still have feelings for her, not after everything that had happened. She was being ridiculous. She resolved to be a bit more cheerful as she tied a floral ribbon in her short hair. But she still wished she looked a bit more like a girl to be a bit more appealing to _him_, and she didn't even know why.

"Your hair is like mine, Rinny," Tom informed her factually, after holding his arms open wide and demanding she hold him as they walked over to Darcy and Ana's place. She supported him on her hip as he held onto her with one hand, the other playing with her hair.

"Well that's why I cut it, Tom, to look like you," she replied with a small smile. He grinned. Maddy rolled her eyes.

"You shouldn't tell him that, he already things too well of himself," she advised, but a smirk still played on her lips.

"Nonsense. He's the most special boy in the world," Eerin objected, pressing a kiss to Tom's forehead.

"Rinny, can we go for a swim?" he requested hopefully. She laughed, and ruffled his hair.

"Later, bub. I guess I'm going to be the evil one now that I didn't let him have a swim," she replied, just as they began to approach the beautiful oversized Victorian cottage where they would find Ana and Darcy. She was filled with a nervous sense of apprehension as they came closer to it. She'd barely slept the night before, because every time she closed her eyes, his incredible emerald eyes swum before her vision.

"Fits!" Tom cried eagerly, managing to separate from Eerin to run across the veranda, bouncing excitedly in front of the screen door.

"Hmm. He seems to love you more than me," Maddy laughed, when Darcy opened the door, and Tom immediately wrapped his arms around his neck.

"I'm sure I'd be able to share him with you," Darcy laughed, standing up with Tom in his arms. Eerin felt like someone had made a sharp tug on her stomach when he glanced to her momentarily, but the moment was gone when Ana came out of the house, the very vision of a beach beauty, with denim shorts, a white singlet she somehow made look elegant, thongs and even a cute little straw hat over her dark curls and pale skin.

"Are you guys ready to go?" she asked excitedly, seeing the congregation on the veranda.

"We should probably take my car, I rented a seven-seater for the holidays," Darcy informed them, Tom still held in his arms, finding great enjoyment in playing with his beard.

"Good idea, actually, it would have been a little awkward to shove us all in my little Civic," Maddy agreed. "So are you both ready to go?"

"Of course, but Fitz overslept and didn't have time to shave his Manly-Man-Beard," Ana laughed, poking her brother in his side. He rolled his eyes.

"It's not a 'Manly-Man-Beard', I'm just trying something different," he scolded, but his eyes danced with amusement. He laughed when Ana started to hum 'I'm a lumberjack', leaning over to ruffle her hair.

Eerin smiled. They were so sweet together. And she really didn't mind his 'Manly-Man-Beard', in fact, she rather liked it. He looked so... well, casual, compared to his usual stiff attire. He wore jeans again, this time with a plain white shirt and – woe betide, _sandals_. It was almost as if he were finally getting used to Australia.

She wondered at the difference of his attitude and behaviour when they left the classroom. Now that she thought about it, he really wasn't so bad when he wasn't her teacher, he was... well, he had a wicked sense of humour, he was caring and affectionate; she couldn't have misjudged him anymore than she already had.

She tried not to be jealous as she listened to him chat to Maddy in the front seat. Maddy deserved to be happy, and it was quite clear that she'd blown her chance – _Darcy_ deserved to be happy too. They would be a perfect couple.

"So how did you learn how to cook?" Ana questioned curiously when they arrived at the early-morning markets, mostly buzzing with locals, as few tourists ventured out of their cottages before nine.

"My Mum's been training me to be a housewife since I was three, Ana," she laughed, selecting an eggplant before moving onto the spinach. "And I'm a veggo, so I have to cook a lot of my own meals at home. It can be quite fun, you know," she added.

"Fitz can't cook either. Our cook usually does that for us, but I don't know how he doesn't starve without her in Australia," she laughed.

"You have a cook?" Eerin exclaimed with a raised brow. Ana immediately blushed.

"Oh. Yeah, we uh..."

"That's so cool. My Mum does the cooking at my place, unless she stops off at Red Rooster on her way home," she replied with a small grin. "I wish we had a cook or a maid or something, I'm too lazy to cook and clean. But then again I kind of think it's useless to have people wait on you, I'd probably rather do it myself, if I wanted to be honest," she laughed, putting a paper bag full of mushrooms in her straw shopping basket before they moved on to the capsicums.

"You get used to it, and it's a lot of help," Ana shrugged. Eerin gave a small, barely concealed smile. "What?"

"Nothing," she replied immediately, her voice still dancing with humour. "Well, I don't know. I guess we're just different like that. I don't tend to get used to things much, and I can imagine having a cook would be something I wouldn't really accustom to," she shrugged. Ana lowered her eyes, as if ashamed.

"I suppose you think I'm spoilt," she muttered quietly. Eerin turned to her, plain faced, with no deceit.

"Materially, yes. Is that so bad?" she replied simply. Ana's jaw fell open, and for a moment she struggled for words. "You're not a bad person; you're just used to all the comfort money can bring. It hasn't made you cruel or ignorant or selfish, but I'd be pandering to you if I said you weren't _technically_ what someone like me, who cooks their own meals and can't afford couture, would call spoilt. But you're still probably one of the nicest people I know," she shrugged. Ana blinked, still trying to form words. "I'm self-absorbed and obnoxious. And a bit of a bitch. Is it really so bad to admit what we're all really like once in a while?" she questioned, with a slight tilt of her head.

"Well, no, but –"

"I don't get why people do that. I mean, when I'm being a bitch I know I'm being a bitch, and so does everyone else. We might as well admit our faults once in a while," she said thoughtfully, as she paid the stall owner for the vegetables, before strolling across to the delicatessen, leaving a speechless Ana in her wake.

"You're not a bitch," she insisted, rushing up as soon as she had regained her senses. Eerin gave a small smile before ordering five hundred grams of Danish feta from the man behind the glass counter.

"Oh no, I am. Not all the time, but steal my tim-tams, and I'll scratch your eyes out," she assured her. "And some of the antipasto mix, too, please. About two-fifty grams of that, and, uh – yeah, the same for the black olives, and about half a dozen artichoke hearts," she requested, moving along the counter as the attendant measured and wrapped her orders. "Actually, throw in another fifty grams of the olives, and the rest of that ricotta," she added.

"No, really, you're not. You've been nice to me," Ana tried to assure. Eerin laughed.

"Ana, seriously, I _am_. Not all the time, but I have the tendency to be pretty rude," she replied with a shrug. "I don't mind, it's who I am. You really shouldn't worry," she added.

"But – But you shouldn't say that sort of stuff about yourself!" she continued, almost desperately. Eerin rolled her eyes as she paid, and then accepted the wrapped packages from over the counter.

"Thanks mate," she smiled, placing them in her basket and heading back across the square to the grocers. "Ana, you're fussing over this. Ask Jan. Ask Maddy, or my friend Carmen, in fact, ask your brother, they'll all agree. Sometimes I'm just a bitch, plain and simple," she said in a finalising tone, pulling open the fridge as she walked into the shop and selecting several different kinds of European lemonades.

"No, Fitz would _never_ say that!" she insisted with exasperation.

"Would it be racist if I asked if this is a British thing, or an Ana thing?" she questioned with a small laugh. "Please, Ana, it's not a big deal, I'm just being honest, and nothing you can say will make me suddenly have an angelic opinion of myself," she assured her, carrying the bottles over to the counter. Ana pouted, frowning at seemingly nothing. "Come on, let's just find the others and head back," she suggested, giving her a warm smile.

Ana sighed, and nodded, following in her wake.

They found Darcy and Tom first, mostly due to the fact that Tom had somehow managed to get a piggy-back ride out of Darcy and they were clearly visible over the thinning morning crowd as they stood outside the book shop.

"Now Thomas, I thought you were a big boy and could walk all by yourself," Eerin reminded her cousin sternly, trying not to laugh at the adorable display they presented.

"When I'm as big as F – Fits, _den_ I'll walk, Rinny," Tom insisted, grinning at his own cleverness. His cousin laughed, and shook her head in amusement.

"Well, Fitz is _very_ big, so I think that might be a while yet, Tom," she reminded him with a smile. The corner of Darcy's lips quirked slightly upwards.

"That's quite alright, Tom, I'm sure it'll only be a little longer now," he assured the young boy, swinging him over so he was held on the side of Darcy's hip, with so much ease it was like the man had been doing it all his life. "How did you go?" he asked the girls. Eerin held up her full basket as an indication of their success.

"Got everything we need, have you seen Jan and Maddy, or are they still at the bottle-o?" she enquired. Darcy blinked in surprise.

"Sorry?"

"Liquor shop. You know, where they went to get some wine?" she laughed, gesturing to the shop across the square.

"Oh, of course. They said they were popping across to the supermarket to get a few staples," he answered, looking slightly embarrassed to have not understood her terminology.

"I'll go get them," Ana decided, crossing the road, most likely in an attempt to leave her brother and Eerin with a bit more privacy.

"Tom, have you been a good boy?" Eerin questioned her cousin, who immediately nodded emphatically. She raised a brow at Darcy, who smiled, and nodded. "Well then, I got you some clouds, you can have a few now and then we'll save the rest 'til after tea," she informed him, pulling a packet of small red lollies from her basket.

"_Clouds_!" Tom practically shrieked with excitement. Eerin laughed, and allowed him three, which he stuffed into his little mouth eagerly. "Thank you, Rinny!" he managed to get out between chews, grabbing her face and pressing an enthusiastic kiss on her cheek, which resulted in red sugar on her face.

"Tom!" she laughed as he squirmed in the chuckling Darcy's arms. She sighed and returned the kiss, with less saliva.

"Halloa again, lass," came a sudden greeting from inside the bookshop they were standing outside of. The polite, elderly gentleman from the bookshop she had met yesterday was leaning in the doorway, a smile on his lips.

"Oh, hullo, opening early?" she smiled, struggling away from Tom's arms as he tried to endear himself enough for another lolly.

"Early bird, you know," he chuckled. "Your fellas were in here since opening, I suppose the whole family are book worms?" he grinned.

"Oh, uh – they're not my fellas, and only one of them can read, so far," she laughed, ruffling Tom's hair. The man raised a brow in surprise.

"Really? Could have sworn – ah well. So he's yours then?" he questioned, glancing to Darcy.

"No. He's her cousin," he answered, in his usual clipped tone when speaking to strangers. Much to her surprise, it didn't exasperate Eerin like it normally would; she was more used to it. "I'm just minding him," he added, as if to quench the man's curiosity, before he and Tom strolled a few feet away.

"Well, good luck with that. Bit of shopping?" he enquired, turning back to Eerin, who gave a small grin.

"What can I say, I'm addicted to early-morning markets," she laughed. "But when it comes to books, I like a bit more time and caffeine. I'll probably be here every afternoon for the next week," she informed him, her dark eyes twinkling.

"I'd be honoured, m'dear. Good luck with your... well, fellas," he grinned, giving her a quick nod before returning to his shop. Eerin hid a smile before she turned back to Darcy and Tom.

"Alright sweetie, we should try to find your Mum now," she smiled to her young cousin, tickling his little belly before they began to walk up the alley in the direction of the supermarket, where they could already see the three ladies approaching them.

"You knew that man?" Darcy questioned, with obvious hesitation. She shrugged.

"I spoke to him yesterday. He's friendly," she replied simply. "Not disapproving of my new friends, are we, professor?" she challenged, with a teasing smirk. He resisted the urge to lower his eyes, and held her gaze.

"Perhaps, Miss Beaumont, I'm simply brushing up my social skills by observing your infinitely more refined technique," he returned. She blushed slightly, and lightly bit against her bottom lip.

"I'll take that into account in the future," she laughed, as the women approached. "Luck?"

"We just got a few bottles and then some basics from Woolies, did you get everything else?" Maddy enquired.

"Yeah, the veggies are so fresh they were probably in the ground this morning. Should we head back then?" she suggested. All assembled agreed it was probably about time they returned, so as to be back before Chase arrived.

Neither Darcy, Ana or Eerin spoke much on the return drive, but for very separate reasons. Eerin's head was full of the ever increasing confusion of emotions she felt when she was near Darcy, and how exactly she should deal with them. Ana simply couldn't understand Eerin's self-deprecating comments, and was simply unable to believe anyone could be so confident and grounded as to be able to accept such aspects of their personality with such ease.

Darcy was torn. It would be stupid to think he wasn't still in love with Eerin Beaumont – if anything his feelings were just getting more and more serious as time passed, and their separation had only increased his ardour. But she seemed so... well, unaffected, unmoved, impervious to his bitterness and general melancholy. She smiled and laughed and chatted and did everything she had always done, it was as if she had completely forgotten his behaviour. He wanted to think that by cutting off all her hair and the fact that she looked a little thinner and paler than usual was testament to her regret or uneasiness, but he wasn't even sure of that anymore.

He had no idea if he should attempt to woo her or leave well enough alone. He needed her in some capacity in her life, but he didn't want _this_, the casual words exchanged and occasional eye contact, he wanted to reoffer her everything and he wished more than anything that she would just accept and end his angst. On one side, he ran the risk of losing her again. But on the other, he might not have her at all.

It seemed so easy for her. And he was jealous of that, it was easy enough to admit.

**A/N: Not a huge chapter, but trust me. You're going to like the next one. It has reunions between two couples, one beating and a bag of melting vegetables sitting on someone's crotch. Not to mention our favourite protagonists, having a nice long conversation and clearing the air a bit. **

**So, review, my lovelies, and tell me what you think! Should Darcy woo Eerin, or leave 'well enough alone'? Well, we all know the answer to that. **


	21. Of Repasts and Repairs

"_Impassioned lovers, wrestle as one,_

_Lonely man cries for love, and he has none,_"

-The Moody Blues, 'Knights in White Satin'

"So how do we start?" Ana questioned her new friend with a somewhat wary expression, taking in the granite bench covered with food that needed to be cooked.

"Well in terms of _food_, we'll start with some entrées, which is really easy," Eerin began, beginning to unpack the large basket she had filled at the market in the spacious and stylish kitchen. "We've got plenty of cheese, feta, ricotta, brie, uh - oh, and plenty of Mersey Valley, Jan loves that," she added, making a small pile of cheeses before pulling out a packet of water crackers and some cheds for Tom.

"Oh. Are these boiled eggs?" Ana enquired with a slight frown, peering into a small container curiously. Eerin couldn't help but laugh.

"Actually, that's bocconcini, but it was a good guess," she smiled, before glancing over her shoulder. Her heart leapt to see Darcy standing in the doorway, his lips curved slightly at the corners to suggest the flicker of a smile.

"Where are the others?" he asked curiously, strolling into the kitchen.

"Maddy's talking to Jan back at our place. Is Tom right?" she replied, feeling slightly nervous as she spoke. He nodded.

"He fell asleep on the settee. I think the early morning might have been a bit much for him," he answered with a small smile.

"He'll wake up when he smells something cooking," she laughed, pulling out a heavy chopping board, before standing on the tips of her toes and reaching up to get the balsamic vinegar from the top shelf. "So, uh, what time will Chase be getting here?" she enquired, glancing over her shoulder to see him still leaning against the door frame – only now his eyes weren't trained on her face. She blushed when she saw the line of his intense gaze; the hem of her dress had ridden up to reveal several inches of the back of her thighs – several inches more than she was comfortable with.

"What? Oh, uh – not 'til about two or three this afternoon," he replied, shaking out of his trance. Ana was smirking by the sink when she watched the display, earning her disapproving glances from both Darcy and Eerin. "So – err, you cook?" he questioned, stepping forwards in an attempt to break the awkwardness.

"A bit, yeah. Sorry to say there won't be any steaks, just rabbit food," she answered apologetically. He smiled softly.

"That's fine with me. So what are we making?" he questioned, glancing at the selection of food sprawled over the bench.

"Well, we'll start with a few dips and cheeses, most of them I bought from the shops so we don't have to make them, but later we'll do a few warm salads, a pasta dish, maybe a pie, there's an eggplant there so I'll do something fun with that, perhaps some focaccia, pretty much whatever we feel like for the next five hours," she shrugged simply. Darcy raised a brow and glanced at her waist.

"And _how_ are you so slim when you have five hour meals?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"I was thinking the same thing. Life is cruel," Ana sighed. Eerin blushed, and self-consciously wrapped her slender arms around her waist.

"I'm not _that_ 'slim'," she insisted quietly.

"That's ridiculous! You are _so_ tiny, I wish I never gained weight," Ana huffed enviously. Eerin managed a small grimace, but her cheeks were still flushing.

"I don't do this regularly, you know. Normally I try not to eat a lot," she explained, before frowning slightly, as if at her own words. She covered up her slip with a large smile. "Now, Professor, would you mind opening those crackers over there? The water and the seaweed, please," she requested, gesturing over to a few packets of crackers as she cut the selection of cheeses into bite-sized pieces.

In the next few minutes they managed to put out a decent spread on the table on the balcony just outside the kitchen, as Maddy and Jan approached, after what looked like a good, deep and meaningful discussion. Eerin suspected she had told her Aunt about the baby – she had urged her to the night before, and Maddy was the most obvious person to discuss it with.

"This looks good, Tom still asleep?" Maddy questioned, taking a seat by Darcy.

"He's out cold on the settee. Should I wake him?" he replied.

"No, don't worry about it, he doesn't really like this sort of stuff much at his age," she assured him with a pretty smile. Eerin immediately ducked her head and avoided looking at them with determination.

She was so certain he had been looking at her in the kitchen – but she couldn't be _sure_, and anyway, after the way she had behaved, he had no reason to still love her, he didn't even have to think _well_ of her. But Maddy... Maddy was different. He had every reason to be attracted to her.

"So what's this one, Eerin?" Ana questioned curiously as she inspected the cheeses. Eerin distracted herself as Darcy and Maddy chatted by giving Ana a detailed description of all the foods that lay before her, wishing she could just disappear and not have to watch her Aunt and the man she had maybe-desperately-serious feelings about enjoy themselves.

Jan didn't talk much, mostly just looked sad as she stared out to the ocean. It was a beautiful day, the sun high and hot over the blue-green waters as the blurred outlines of brightly-clad tourists played down on the white sand. Eerin could tell she was thinking about Chase.

She couldn't imagine how much it must have hurt her, to have lost the person she felt so strongly about, now to have to see them all over again.

Little did Eerin realise that Jan wasn't the only person at the table who felt that way. Darcy's eyes kept on flickering over to his student, so much so that Maddy was fighting the urge to comment on it.

He couldn't help but bitterly think that he didn't really know her that well. She was someone completely different as he watched her telling Ana about the cheeses or whizzing around in the kitchen, she was like some sort of machine that worked in conjunction with her Aunt and sister when they slipped back into the kitchen, taking it in shifts to make the pastry twists or check on the focaccia or give the casserole a stir. Time seemed to just slip by as he watched her, slowly sinking into a fuzzy haze as he sipped his wine and chatted with the girls.

He couldn't really take his eyes off her. It was the closest thing he had experienced to his dream and it was just intoxicating to see her in that white summer dress, her ivory feet dancing over the hardwood floors and a navy apron tied tightly around her slender waist, so small he could have wrapped his hands around it and had his fingers meet. She was a domestic goddess. It was a different Eerin to the inquisitive student or the passionate musician, she was... well, he loved her in each capacity.

He hadn't expected this 'five hour meal' thing to work, but somehow there was this unspoken synchronisation partnered with the exquisite food and conversation, so it just seemed to linger. It made food seem like an art form, really. Tom came out after the entrées, eager to fill his face with food before collapsing on the settee again.

"I feel like music. Ana, do you any good CDs?" Eerin enquired after about the second or third hour, by this time they were eating a warm pasta salad with basil pesto, capsicum, tomato and bocconcini.

"I have a few, but Fitz has more," she answered. Eerin raised a brow.

"I thought you weren't into music that much?" she challenged him. He smiled.

"I am, I'm just selective with my tastes," he shrugged. Eerin laughed.

"Goody, it's going to be classical all the way. Well, let's see what he's got," she declared, rising from her chair and allowing Ana to lead her down the hall. A few moments later those still seated at the table heard a loud '_Oh my GOD!_', before she hurried back with a few CDs in her hand.

"What?" he exclaimed with concern.

"You listen to _Meat Loaf_?" she cried, holding up one of the 'Bat out of Hell' albums. He blinked.

"Is that... bad?" he questioned with slight hesitation. Maddy and Jan sniggered. "I grew up in the eighties!" he defended.

"I think my niece just fell in love with you," Maddy informed him, barely concealing a smirk.

Darcy felt something tighten in his chest. He wished she hadn't have said that.

"Maddy's right. I _worship_ Meat Loaf," Eerin agreed, instantly running back inside to the stereo. A few seconds later they heard the unmistakable sounds of Jim Steinman's characteristic piano roar through the speakers. "I can't believe that you're actually _cool_," she exclaimed. Ana sniggered at this comment.

"I told you I listened to older music with piano," he muttered with a slight frown.

"This isn't just _music_, this is – this is Music, with a capital 'M' and its own list of credentials!" she insisted firmly. "I think this has changed my entire opinion of you. You're the coolest old person I know," she declared. Darcy spluttered to find words, before she laughed.

"I'm not _old_," he petulantly objected. She continued to giggle, her dark eyes sparkling. Before he knew it he felt himself smile just a little, and then a little more, until he was joining her laughter, which only made _her_ laugh harder, which did the same to him.

It took them a few minutes to regain normality, because they weren't just laughing about a few silly comments and Meat Loaf, it was something more. They were laughing at how ridiculous they each had been over the past few months, and how ridiculous a situation they had found themselves in, after everything had passed. It was as if they were laughing away the pain they had caused each other. They laughed until it no longer hurt.

"I think they're a little crazy," Maddy muttered, sipping her wine. Ana smiled.

"Hmm. Definitely," she agreed.

By the time their chuckles had ceased, both Darcy and Eerin were wiping tears from their eyes and were now quietly sniggering into their wine glasses, with secretive glances shared over the rims. The moment was shattered, however, with the sound of a car rolling up the drive, signalling Chase's arrival. All eyes immediately turned to Jan with concern, who had suddenly turned pale and was trembling slightly.

"Excuse me, I have to go greet my guest," Darcy announced gravely, rising from his chair and stepping back into the house. Without a moment's thought Eerin rushed after him.

"Darcy! Wait!" she hissed, meeting him by the stairs and holding to his arm. "Please. Don't let her get hurt. I know you don't believe she's pregnant, and I know you might be planning something –" she began, before stopping herself and sighing. He stared at her intently.

"Eerin, I want to make amends for what I've done to you and your family," he said quietly. "I don't want to hurt her, or Chase, or their child. I know I don't deserve your trust, but please, must believe that I'm trying to help them," he swore. Her expression turned grave and she bit against her bottom lip, before finally nodding.

"Alright. I trust you," she replied softly. He gave a small smile, and reached for her hand. He pulled it to his lips and pressed a quick but tender kiss to her knuckles, before giving it a comforting squeeze and releasing it as he headed downstairs.

Eerin sighed, and then moved to return to the balcony. She just hoped that her trust wasn't going to be misplaced, and Darcy wasn't going to let Jannali be hurt once more.

Chase wasn't pleased with his friend when he met him outside the door to the beautiful white beach house; he hated the apologetic smile of greeting which meant he couldn't hate him.

He had _tried_ to hate him, over the past few weeks he had tried harder than he knew he could to hate Darcy, but the truth (as much as he hated it) was that he loved his friend more than he loved Jan.

Or at least that was the way it _had_ been.

Now he was working up the courage to tell Darcy to screw himself – he loved Jan and he wanted to be with her, to be damned with Darcy's wishes. He knew that because Darcy hadn't actually done anything wrong it would be hard to resent him – his intensions were good, which made it all the worse.

"Thank you for coming, Chase, really," he greeted him, his tone sincere. Chase found himself mildly pleased with the fact that he looked terrible.

"Well, perhaps I was being unfair by not talking to you," he sighed. Darcy gave a grateful smile.

"I have some other guests upstairs, you should come join us," he suggested, taking his bag from him.

"_You_? Guests? I thought you didn't have any friends," he retorted, his tone teasing, but hinted with bitterness. Darcy chuckled before he pulled open the door to one of the bedrooms and put the bag atop the double bed.

"This'll be your room, and I do too have friends," he defended, making a move to the stairs before suddenly stopping. "Chase, there's something you should know before we go upstairs," he said finally, his tone suddenly serious. Chase narrowed a brow with accusation.

"What?" he questioned, his voice heavy with suspicion. Darcy sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"After you and Jannali broke up, she came to my office in tears," he began. "She gave me a letter and begged me to give it to you. I –" he paused, and lowered his eyes. "I read it, and then threw it away. I didn't give it to you or tell you what it said because I – I didn't believe what she wrote in it," he continued, hazarding a glance to his friend. Chase's face was pale with anger, his eyes dark. He looked frozen. "She – she claimed she was pregnant, and that you were the father. I thought it was some sort of ruse to get you to go back to her," he confessed.

"Is she?" he demanded hoarsely, after some time of silence.

"I believe so."

"And... Why are you telling me this now?" Chase finally asked, his voice trembling with anger.

"She's upstairs, on the balcony with her sister and their Aunt. They're staying just up the beach."

"Right," Chase muttered, before clearing his throat.

"A – Are you alright?" Darcy slowly questioned. Chase nodded firmly.

"Of course."

And then he punched him. It came on so suddenly and with such force that Darcy's head flew back and knocked against the wall before he slid to the ground, clutching his eye. This left him open to the kick to his stomach, and then his jaw – and the next to his groin. He gave a choked groan but did not defend himself, he deserved it.

Chase didn't stick around after that, he immediately ran up the stairs, his entire body alive with anger. How _dare_ he? How _dare_ he keep that from him? How dare he keep that he had a _child_ from him, just because he didn't approve of his girlfriend? It was unbelievable – he had trusted him more than anyone in the world, and now this was the ultimate betrayal!

And suddenly, before he could become too lost in his anger, there she was. Out on the balcony, leaning against the railings with such a sad expression on her beautiful face. He stopped, his breath catching in his throat. She turned – dark eyes widening in surprise – and before he knew it he was walking towards her.

He stepped out slowly. It was as if he didn't have control of his own body, everything was slow and hazy, like a dream. She was stunning; a vision of all that was beautiful, and she simply stood there, staring at him with a whitened face and wide, incredulous eyes. He took another few steps forwards, and took her in.

All of her. Her long blonde hair that hung over her back and shoulders, her heart-shaped face and her pink lips, those big dark eyes that used to twinkle with love. Now it was only suspicion. He quickly glanced to her waist. It was impossible to believe that there was a child there, _his_ child, _their_ child! But he knew she would never lie. Not about such a thing.

"C – Chase?" Jan breathed incredulously as he reached for her hands.

"J – Jannali," he whispered softly, swallowing. "You – you look well," he managed to get out. Jan scoffed, and stepped back, holding her hand to her mouth. Her eyes were instantly filled with tears.

"Well? After _weeks,_ Chase, weeks of waiting around for you to call, for you to give a damn about your _child_ after you fucked off, all you can say is I look _well_?" she demanded bitterly, glaring at him in accusation. He made a strange, strangled sort of noise from the back of his throat that might have been a sob.

"I – I only just found out," he defended quietly.

She looked just as beautiful as ever, but there was so much… hurt in her stunning brown eyes.

"Y – You didn't _know_?"

"I didn't read the letter. I'm sorry, Jan, I'm so sorry," he insisted firmly, his voice starting to break. "I never – I never wanted to leave you. You know I'm crazy about you," he continued, taking another step forwards. She gave a strangled sort of sob.

"You _left_," she snapped bitterly, pulling away from him.

"I wish I hadn't. I don't know why I was so weak, I – I'm _so_ damn sorry," he swore, closing the gap between them and moving his hands to her waist. She didn't object when he held her, and it was the sweetest, most painful reminder of all he had lost. "I know I've been an idiot, but – but I love you, Jan, I love you _so_ damn much, and – and if you can forgive me, I want to be there for you, and for our baby," he insisted, feeling tears stream down his face.

"What, and then piss off again when I need you?" she retorted with uncharacteristic bitterness. He sighed, and bit against his bottom lip. He looked up to meet her eyes, and saw such accusation and pain in them.

"I know I – I know I hurt you. I know I was the _biggest_ idiot known to man, but please, _please_, Jan. Let me make it up to you. I'll do anything, I promise," he continued, his voice hoarse with honesty and pain.

"Why should I believe you?" she demanded angrily. He pressed his forehead against hers.

"There's absolutely no reason whatsoever. I was a complete bastard, and I owe you a life of servitude for it," he admitted, his voice breaking as he spoke.

She gave a sniffle and wiped her teary eyes, but there was the slightest hint of hope. He could see it there, deep inside, hidden away. She didn't want to risk it again, and why should she? He could only imagine how much it had pained her, and it was probably made all the worse with this belief that he had left her in the lurch to look after their child alone.

"Marry me, Jan."

Her eyes widened with surprise, and she turned her head to glance to the others on the balcony. Chase hadn't even noticed who was assembled there, but he didn't care. His heart was racing as he waited for her answer. She turned back to him with disbelief, her jaw dropping slightly.

"I – I –" she stammered, before swallowing. "I don't trust you," she said quite plainly. He shrugged.

"You have no reason to trust me. But... I love you. I'm crazy about you, and all I want is to be your husband and to be the father of our baby," he replied softly. She looked at him with suspicion, but as the moments slipped away in silence, there was that hope again, shining deep in her dark eyes.

"Well then," she began stiffly. "It's about bloody time," she smiled, tears slipping silently her cheeks, her soft smile turning to an excited grin.

He felt his heart literally stop for a moment, before he pulled her as close as he could and crushed his lips against hers.

"Did I miss something?" Ana whispered to Maddy, who only grinned.

"Everything, kid. I'll give you a summary later," she promised. Ana nodded, and then turned back to the happy couple with a sigh. It was terribly romantic.

Eerin couldn't be more thrilled as she watched her sister get her happy ending, but she had a suspicion something was missing. Silently she stood up and slipped back into the house and down the stairs, and nearly tripped on the object of her search. She sighed, hid a laugh (Chase had certainly done a good job), and then knelt down to the beaten figure sitting at the base of the stairs with his back against the wall.

"What did you do?" she asked patiently, brushing some of the dark hair from his face. By the looks of it Chase had gotten a good right hook on the side of his jaw, which was already purpling beneath his dark beard, and his eye was _not_ looking good either.

"Told him the truth," he groaned, shifting slightly and wincing. Eerin gave a small laugh which turned into a sigh.

"You kept the letter, didn't you," she said simply. He paused, and then nodded. "I thought so. I wouldn't have been so angry with you if I didn't think you had. But at least it's out in the open now," she added positively. "Can you stand?" she questioned. He attempted to sit up, before groaning and ceasing all movement.

"Not really."

"Well, this is going to be interesting," she muttered thoughtfully, glancing over his large frame. "Darcy, how much do you weigh? Out of curiosity?" she questioned.

"About ninety five kilos, give or take," he muttered. She tisked.

"All muscle, damn you. Well, this is going to be interesting, my pitiful forty something kilos against your ridiculously fat self."

She shifted to move behind his head, and slowly helped him ease up to a sitting position, not without a few curse words she had never heard before, but was sure to use sometime in the future.

"Alright, put your arm around me and we'll try to stand," she instructed. He looked at her doubtfully, but she rolled her eyes. "I _know_ I'm a little small, but seriously, this is the only way," she assured him. Bracing himself, he put his arm over her shoulder and gave a sharp intake of pained breath as they rose to a standing position. Eerin almost toppled over with his overwhelming form, but he grasped the doorknob just in time. "Where's your room?" she questioned, her voice somewhat strained.

"Down the hall, just there," he groaned. They struggled the few metres to his bedroom, not without pain for both parties, before she pulled open the door and allowed him to fall onto the perfectly neat Queen-sized bed with a groan.

"Should I get ice?" she questioned. He nodded, and shifted slightly. "How much?"

"A lot," he muttered, before wincing. She moved a few pillows behind his back so he could lie comfortably, before rushing up to the kitchen. She found two ice packs, and a few bags of frozen vegetables. Grabbing whatever she could find, she hurried back downstairs. He lay still, with his eyes closed, and she was worried he might have fallen asleep. "I'm still conscious," he assured her, when he heard her step into the room.

"Good. Don't want you dying on us, not now that you've bought your soul back from the devil," she smiled, stepping up to the bed. "Where did he get you?" she questioned softly.

"Eye, jaw, back of the head, side of my stomach and –" he stopped. Eerin laughed.

"Did he really kick you – _there_?" she giggled.

"Hmm. Yes, and you can't laugh 'til you've had someone kick _your_ reproductive organs," he retorted with slight annoyance. She stifled her amusement by lifting his head slightly, and slipping the bag of frozen stir-fry mix beneath it. He gave a relieved groan, before she put an ice pack on his jaw, a smaller one on his eye, and then a frozen drink bottle by his side.

"Umm, what should I do with the last one?" she questioned with hesitation. He opened an eye and looked at her, fighting a smirk.

"I suppose, given your history, you're unfamiliar with the location of a man's genitals," he teased, moving to take the bag of frozen vegetables from her. She scowled, and then dropped it on his groin. He groaned in pain almost immediately. "_Dammit_, woman! Have you no pity?" he cried angrily, moving it to a less tender area.

"Sorry, I dropped it," she replied innocently. He huffed in annoyance, before sighing.

"I'm sorry. It just – hurts. More than I'd like to admit," he muttered quietly, before letting out a long, slow sigh.

He looked as if he were about to say something, so Eerin remained silent, her eyes trained on his face. She wanted to see if something had changed, if there was some sort of visible mark that could tell her if he really _was_ turning around for the good now. She still couldn't understand why he had done something so cruel and hurtful to her darling big sister, but she was certain now that things were different. And she needed to know why.

"I deserved it, you know. I'm far too attached to the boy. I think I was just jealous that after all these years, he's finally found someone he worships more than me," he commented, after that long, quiet pause, as if he had sensed her line of thought.

"That's awfully brave of you to admit," she replied. He attempted to shrug, but winced instead.

"Chase is still very much a lad."

"I think you should stick with 'boy'. Around here, a lad is pretty much scum. It's about the same as an eshay."

Darcy blinked in confusion.

"An eshay. The lowest form of bogan."

Darcy blinked again. She rolled her eyes.

"Like a chav, but worse. The kind of scum that thought the Cronulla riots were a good idea, and made the whole world think we're racist," she explained.

"Ah. A chav. I can understand that much," he nodded. "But regardless, I've always been the one he runs to for decisions; he listens to me no matter what I say. I think I abused that privilege. I didn't even _know_ I had that privilege until you pointed it out to me. By which time it was too late," he continued, staring at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. He then turned to her, looking very serious, despite the two icepacks on his face. "I suppose he's proposed to her then."

"Yes," she smiled. "And she said yes, because she loves him, and they're going to have a baby together," she replied happily. He gave a small smile.

"He'll be a wonderful father," he murmured, shifting his eyes back to the ceiling. "Or maybe a terrible one," he chuckled suddenly. "He'll spoil the child to no ends, and let it get away with everything. And your sister will be too sweet to chastise it," he added. Eerin laughed, and nodded.

"But it's going to be _so_ loved. It'll be the happiest child in the world," she pointed out, sliding onto the bed to lie next to him, her legs curled up to her chest in the foetal position. He gave a lazy sort of smile. The fact that there was only a few inches between their bodies sent shivers through every cell; it filled her with a warm, humming sort of feeling that she wanted to bask in for an eternity.

"Before you get too comfortable, would you be a dear and fetch me something to numb this?" he requested. She raised a brow.

"I assume you don't mean neurofen."

"The study, second draw. There should be two glasses."

She nodded, and slipped off the bed, fighting a grin. It only took her a moment to return with two shot glasses and a very fine bottle of whisky in one hand, and then a tall, chilled bottle of something she had spotted in the freezer.

"What's this?" she questioned, holding up the bottle, with a picture of a buffalo on the front. He chuckled.

"Żubrówka. It's Polish vodka, very nice. I thought the whisky would be a bit more direct, but I think that would get the edge off nicely, too," he smiled.

"Well I'll have the zub... zuc... the vodka, and you can have the whisky," she decided, pouring him a tumbler of the deep golden liquid. He swallowed it back without turning a hair, and gave a deep sigh, before she poured herself a glass of the pale green alcohol. She sniffed it with caution – but it smelt rather wonderful, like almonds and thyme and coconuts, but there was also a hint of vanilla. She sipped it with caution, only to discover that it was actually quite nice, if not a little strong. She took a large mouthful, and Darcy chuckled when she winced.

"You're normally supposed to drink it with juice," he informed her. She shuddered.

"I don't think juice would make that taste any less intense," she laughed.

"Then stick of the whisky. I tend to destroy my liver with the best," he commented. She poured him another glass, which he took with thanks, and then one for herself. It made an interesting blend with the herbal tastes already in her mouth from the vodka, although it didn't go down any smoother. She could already feel the warmth spreading in her stomach as she lay back on the bed beside him.

"Why did you tell him?" she asked softly, after a few minutes of silence had passed.

"Because of Jannali, because of her baby, because of –" he stopped himself.

"Just say it," she whispered quietly, her voice weak with a combination of fear and hope.

"You. Because of you," he muttered, turning to her, his tone deadly serious. She nodded, trying not to let her feelings run away with her. "And... because of my ex," he added suddenly. She sat up slightly, with an unreadable expression.

"How so?"

"Laura was..." he sighed. "Let's just say that I know what it's like to only be loved for your money, and I didn't want that to happen to Chase. So I acted rashly, but when I realised that Jannali didn't want that, I knew I had to tell him the truth," he explained.

"It was very brave of you. If Jan knew, I know she would be very thankful," she said quietly. He chuckled.

"Hmm, she might have given me a few kicks herself," he muttered.

"How do you feel?" she questioned, when he didn't continue. He shrugged.

"My side isn't so bad, and my head is quite numb now. But I rather doubt I'll ever be able to have children," he informed her. She stifled a laugh in her arm. "So. Am I forgiven?" he asked suddenly, turning his head to regard her with a questioning expression.

"For what?"

"For destroying your sister's life," he supplied. She was silent for a moment as she thought of her response.

"It's not my place to forgive you. It wasn't my place to judge you. I tend to do that – judge when I shouldn't, and I'm trying to stop that practise, now that I know how much it can hurt people," she said finally, thinking over her words.

"Hmm. I suppose I'll have to be content with that," he sighed, continuing to stare at the ceiling. "You know, when I started teaching in England, a friend of mine told me to be careful," he began suddenly. Eerin glanced to him in surprise. "He's a bit older than me, ten years, or thereabouts; he was my mentor at Oxford. I worked with him for a year, and I learnt a lot from him. On my first day he took me aside and told me that I was going to face challenges and temptations in my career, but I had to do what was right. I think it was the kind of thing my father would have said, had we a little more time together," he continued thoughtfully.

"And?" Eerin softly questioned.

"And... I crossed the line. I've been crossing lines since I came to this place, crossing lines with my friends, with the university, with –" he swallowed, "with _you_. There's an awful lot I have to make up for, Eerin. I did the wrong thing and I have to make up for that. I know I asked for too much before, but – but would it be so much to ask for your friendship?" he questioned carefully. She smiled.

"I can't promise I won't beat you up at some point in our friendship," she teased. He rolled his eyes.

"I think I can handle that, Eerin," he assured her. "The question is, can you handle all the mistakes I've made?" he asked, before she could speak again. She lowered her eyes and looked thoughtful.

"You messed up with my sister, and you were inconsiderate to my family. But I was a bit of a bitch too," she replied softly. "I shouldn't have thrown Graham up in your face, and I shouldn't have said some of the things I said to you. I was _angry,_ and I just wanted to hurt you," she admitted, gently shifting the ice back on his jaw a few inches to the side to cover his bruise.

"I understand, and you were perfectly within your rights to say what you said. You had no reason to think otherwise of me," he replied, leaning forwards and gently smoothing her hair from her face. She shivered with the touch; it sent shivers right through her and a jolt that could have moved the earth.

"But you've changed now," she reminded him. He shrugged.

"Perhaps. I just think that I'm... more comfortable around you now. I don't think I've changed much from who I was all along, but perhaps I'm more inclined to be open with the people I love," he said simply. She laughed.

"The thongs? And the beard? What about the jeans? You're _so_ not the Professor Darcy I knew," she teased. He rolled his eyes.

"Do you object to the beard, or the fact that I'm wearing jeans?" he questioned with a raised brow. She giggled into her hand.

"I quite like the beard, very bohemian," she assured him. "And the jeans make you look a bit more human, too. You can actually tell you have a bum, now," she laughed, her eyes twinkling. Darcy chuckled.

"You little minx," he accused, his hand sliding from the side of her head down to the back of her neck. She gave another shiver, and suddenly the atmosphere changed completely. Her laughter died in her throat as his thumb gently ran over her shoulder, smooth against her pale skin. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers lightly traced some invisible pattern over her arm, before burying themselves in her hair as he pulled her face down and caught her lips against his.

It was the most thrilling feeling in the world, to hear him inhale when their lips parted for just a moment, and the light hitching of breath when they met again. His hand moved to catch her jaw, and the kiss became deeper, until she could hardly breathe. She felt him open her mouth with his and take her bottom lip, lightly brushing his teeth across it before his tongue slipped into her mouth and met hers. It was as if every sense was alight and supercharged but at the same time she was impossibly dizzy and not really aware of anything. It shook her right to her core and she never, _never_ wanted that feeling to end.

But it did, when he gave a hiss of pain against her mouth as she shifted, accidently pressing her knee against the packet of frozen veggies covering his crotch.

"Oh – dammit, I'm so sorry!" she apologised in horror, pulling away slightly. His hiss of pain turned to a chuckle, but it was clear she had injured him.

"That's alright, don't worry, I'm fine," he assured her, shifting on his back with a wince. She covered her mouth in shame.

"I am _so_ sorry."

"So will Chase, when I beat him up for ruining this perfectly wonderful moment," he muttered. She giggled, and he raised a brow. "Hmm, you find my pain amusing, my dear? Had you external reproductive organs that had just been kicked with far too much force, I doubt you would be giggling," he returned. She laughed against his shoulder, and could tell he was smiling.

"I don't think that was particularly romantic," she commented.

"It would have been, were there not a bag of frozen vegetables over my crotch," he chuckled. He wrapped an arm around her waist and shifted her so her head lay on his chest. "I _think_ we need to have a conversation," he informed her, with a soft, faintly amused sort of smile. She blushed.

"I already know what you're going to say."

He raised a brow. "Oh really? Quite a gift, that is. I do hope you can't read my mind," he teased. "So, my dear, please tell me what I'm going to say. I'd love to hear it," he encouraged her. She sighed, and took a deep breath.

"You're going to say you think I'm pleasant enough, but you were an idiot to see anything in me, and that I'm too young, too ignorant and too unattractive to suit you. You think it would be better if we remained in a student teacher relationship, and that your job is very important to you right now," she listed. He chuckled.

"I'm impressed. You were so far from the truth that you should have some sort of special commendation," he commented with a small smile. She rolled her eyes.

"You might as well admit it. Things are different now to how they were at the end of the term. The situation is reversed," she retorted, wishing the disappointment in her voice weren't so obvious.

"What, you're desperately, passionately in love with me now and I hate you for destroying my sister's life and treating my family inconsiderately?" he challenged, cocking a brow. He couldn't help but chuckle.

She lowered her eyes and shifted away from him slightly. He stopped laughing.

"That's it, isn't it. You think you're in love with me," he realised suddenly. She buried her head in the crook beside his shoulder and the pillow. "_Eerin_, don't hide. Look at – _look at me_," he commanded, trying to pull her face up from its hiding place. She kept her eyes glued on the quilt cover. "Eerin, look at me. Is that it?" he questioned, his voice stern, but not with disapproval.

"Fine! Fine, alright, I think I'm in love with you and I know you hate me now! So there, I said it!" she snapped finally, her face pale with anger and shame. She scowled petulantly. Darcy gave a frustrated sigh.

"Why is it that women underestimate men so much? You're all so prepared to doubt how much we love you, and you're so damn fickle you can't comprehend the possibility that we don't just fall in and out of love with a snap of the fingers," he muttered, as if to himself. She opened her mouth to object, but was silenced with his finger against her lips. "No, Eerin. I need to say something, and you'll probably hate me one I've said it," he warned. "You're very young and very naïve. If you weren't you wouldn't be lying in bed with a man who, only a little while ago, tried to seduce you," he began.

"You didn't –"

"Eerin, had you given me half the chance I would have made love to you on my desk, to be damned with the consequences," he said plainly. Those words struck her with intensity and caused her to shiver. She swallowed rather obviously, a signal for him to continue. "Eerin, I... I want to be with you," he began slowly.

"I want to be with you too," she murmured quietly against his shoulder, her body curled up beside him.

"You don't love me yet. I know you don't, and what's more, I don't expect you to. You're very young, and I don't think you've been in a proper relationship before. You don't know the protocol," he explained. She scowled.

"I might not be an expert, but I _think_ I know how to date someone, Darcy," she retorted pointedly. He sighed.

"I don't want to date. I'm too old for anything casual, and you're too young for anything serious," he replied, his tone calm to contrast her agitation. "I've been your age before. When I was your age I was constantly 'dating' some woman or other, it took me years to settle down into something more permanent, and even _that_ went awry," he explained.

"Hm. _Laura_," she muttered, as if the name were filth to her. He felt a small thrill with the realisation that she might just be jealous – but tried not to be sidetracked by it. They really did need to talk.

"Eerin, you're getting distracted. Ignore Laura," he cautioned. She huffed, and nodded. "The point is that I'm much more aware of what I'm doing when it comes to relationships, whilst you... you're terribly, _terribly_ young, and not that experienced," he continued. She opened her mouth to object, but was silenced by his meaningful glance, and bit back her argument. "We shouldn't do this. We really, _really_ shouldn't do this. But there's no denying that I want to, and I'm quite certain you do too," he added, to which she nodded.

"I... I think about you all the time. I was so upset when I read your letter and I – I kept on going over it in my head, it was like I just – I just couldn't shake you, no matter what I did," she quietly muttered. He smoothed back her hair comfortingly.

"It's alright; you don't need to be upset. I made the mistakes, not you," he assured her. "I haven't stopped loving you. I don't think I ever could. The fact that I love you is as clear to me as the fact that I have a bag of melting vegetables on my crotch," he continued, earning him a laugh from her pink lips. "When you rejected me, when you left, something in me snapped. Some kind of wall I think I put up a good eighteen years ago collapsed and left me completely shattered," he explained.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just angry," she muttered quietly. He gave a long sigh, and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"It didn't have a lot to do with you, really. You were just a good escape for everything I've been trying to deny for years," he shrugged. "It seemed so important to me to gain your affections because I think... I saw you, and everything you represented, as what I had missed out on, and I thought to be with you would be compensation for everything that's happened in my life," he sighed deeply, staring up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

"So it could have been anyone?" she asked with a raised brow, thinking back to her aunt. Did he really feel for her at all, or did she just tick certain boxes for him? Was she really just some sort of reward for the trials of becoming an orphan and a father at sixteen?

"No. No one else will do, Eerin," he assured her, his voice hoarse with its sincerity as he met her eyes. "I collapsed when you rejected me. It was the last straw, and eighteen years of repressed anger and pain and longing was suddenly too much. It had been building up right until I met you, and you were... _there_, and everything I had wanted," he murmured, with a slight thoughtful frown as he pushed her short hair back.

"You're being really honest," was all she could think to reply. If she thought about his words too much, she knew she would slip back into her cycle; she would shy away from him in fear of the intensity of his feelings.

"Yes, I suppose I am," he chuckled, his emerald eyes twinkling. "I feel very comfortable with you. I'm not like this with most people," he shrugged.

"Richard tried to tell me what you're really like, but I don't think I believed him," she smiled. He raised a brow in curiosity.

"What did he say?"

"That you're a good guy. The most noble and loyal he'd ever known," she replied. He chuckled, but he was clearly flattered.

"Well, yes. I suppose that's one of my good traits. Ana is the same."

"She surprised me. I had no idea what she was going to be like, I guess I thought she'd be exactly like you," she said thoughtfully, shifting her head so it sat comfortably against his chest. He took her hand and entwined their fingers together over his heart. Whether it was intentional or not, it certainly sent a thrill through her.

"I did my very best to raise her to be more confident and outgoing than I am. And I was conscious that it was unlikely there would be woman around to raise her in the future, so I think I spoilt her a little," he smiled. "She was very much a 'Daddy's Girl'. She's still a little princess," he sighed laughingly.

"Why do you call her cricket, by the way? I meant to ask before, but I didn't want to seem weird," she questioned suddenly. He laughed, and one of the most sincere smiles she had seen him wear broke out over his face.

"When she was three years old," he managed to get out, between sniggers, "I was woken up in the middle of the night when I heard knocking on my bedroom door," he began, with the air of one telling a very amusing story. "So, I opened the door to see this little creature standing in the hall with at least half a dozen pillows, blankets and her whole collection of Winnie the Pooh toys all held in her arms, and a sheet over her head," he continued between chuckles. "I couldn't even see her face, she was just a mountain of toys and blankets, and she said in a very serious tone; 'Daddy, there's a monster in my room and we surrendered'," he added, biting back a grin.

"Bloody hell, that's cute," Eerin laughed.

"It turned out they was just a cricket inside the nursery, but by the time I had taken it outside she'd taken up camp in my bed, with the whole Hundred-Acre-Wood, might I add, and refused to believe that crickets were real," he explained. "It's one of my favourite memories of when she was still just a baby, really. So I started to call her cricket to tease her, and it just stuck," he smiled.

"That's really sweet," she replied softly. He shrugged, with a tiny grin.

"Not so much when I lost my bed to Tigger and Piglet," he drawled, but his eyes still twinkled with amusement.

"When you talk about her, you seem really happy," Eerin commented quietly. He nodded.

"Yes. She's one of the few good things that came out of that whole mess."

"But it must have been hard, regardless," she said, and he stared up at the ceiling in silence.

"Yes. It was," he muttered hoarsely. "But I tried not to think about it. It was always surreal to me, there wasn't a lot I knew about myself and my life that I could rely on when I was younger. I think that's why I was so... shaken up by you," he commented thoughtfully. "When something upsets me, I ignore it. I ignore everything, even people, even _words_. But I couldn't ignore you, and then opened up the floodgates for everything else I'd kept bottled up," he sighed.

"You don't need to apologise for anything," she assured him. He shook his head.

"I'm trying to explain. I need you to understand," he insisted, and she nodded. "You see, I had to pick myself up again from what I knew and could trust about myself, and the only foundation I had left was you. The only truth I could understand was the fact that I – I've come to love you more than myself, and that I am –" he stopped himself, and took a deep breath before continuing, "_bound_ to you in some ridiculous way that supersedes what feels like my entire existence. Do you understand?" he finished, closing his eyes tightly, as if to erase the image of her face before him.

"After the way I treated you, I don't understand how you could," she muttered ashamedly. He chuckled.

"You could hate me, shout at me, beat me, you could do anything you want and I would still adore you. I don't want to have you near me. I _need_ to have you near me," he said simply. She bit against her bottom lip.

"So, if we do this... if we're together," she began, noting how he raised a brow at her use of the word '_if'. _"What if someone finds out? You'll lose your job, your reputation, everything," she said quietly. He shrugged.

"Do you want me to resign? I would, if you asked me," he offered. Her eyes widened.

"No! How could you possibly say that?" she exclaimed. He laughed quietly.

"If, one day, I become the luckiest man alive and you finally love me, you'll understand. Until then, there's not much I can say to explain."

Eerin sighed and shifted closer to him, her small hands pressed against his chest. It caused him a stinging pain in his side where Chase had kicked him, but he didn't care, he was so eager to hold her.

"I want to be with you, but I don't want you to lose your job. So we'll keep it a secret, just you and I," she decided against his shirt. He smiled, and slowly ran his hand down the length of her back, and then up again.

"And how would that work?" he questioned, with slight amusement.

"We'll spend whatever time we can together when I'm in the city for uni. I'll stay with Jan when I can, anything," she said firmly. He resisted the urge to laugh at her conviction.

"I think we might need to formulate a slightly better schedule, but it should be possible. But what concerns me more is your lack of experience. I don't want to lead you astray – but at some point I'll try just about anything I can to get you into my bed," he informed her, his tone heavy with meaning. He felt her tremble against his chest. "I'm not as chivalrous as you might think. When I want something, I tend to get it. I want you, and I won't lie about it," he added, as if in warning.

"I don't have any... religious views on sex, Darcy. I don't think you should sleep with anyone who offers and I don't think you should have to restrict yourself to one partner for your whole life. I think you should love the person, but I know that's a bit naïve," she replied thoughtfully.

"That's a very good ideal to have. But I've slept with women I didn't love. I've slept with women I barely even knew. I just want you to decide now where you want this to end up, and if you think I'm worth what we're risking by doing this," he responded, as calmly as he could. She didn't respond for a few minutes, her face clouded with thought.

"You love me, and I care for you more than I really understand. If not now, then soon. I just need a little time to get used to this," she finally answered. He gave a relieved sigh and a small laugh.

"And where do you think this is going to end up? This 'relationship'?" he questioned gently. She shrugged.

"Well, I don't know. I want to be with you _now_, isn't that enough? I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow," was her simple answer. He sighed.

"That's not an answer, but for now, it'll do," he decided, before leaning forwards and catching her lips. She responded eagerly to the kiss, sliding her hands up around his neck as his hands tightened on her waist.

When she heard him let out a pained hiss she pulled away, face bright red with shame.

"I did it again, didn't I," she practically squeaked, sitting up next to him. He tried to chuckle, but it came out like more of a grimace.

"That's alright, you didn't mean to," he assured her, pressing the ice pack against his crotch. "Or perhaps you did, to punish me," he added, eyes dancing with amusement.

"I'm so sorry, I _really_ am, Pro –" she stopped herself with an angry huff. Darcy's eyes widened.

"You were about to call me '_professor_'!" he exclaimed. She hung her head, pouting angrily at the pillow in an attempt to avoid his gaze. "I certainly hope you don't do this with _all_ your professors," he chuckled, when she said nothing.

"Well clearly I don't do this with _anyone_, if I can't help but hurt you in the process!" she snapped petulantly.

"Eerin, please. You just need a little practise, that's all," he assured her with a comforting smile. She glanced upwards momentarily, still scowling. "And perhaps a few small hints. _That_ particular part of my anatomy is very sensitive, even when it's _not_ just been kicked by my so called 'friend'," he informed her, trying to reach for her once more. She pulled away.

"No! I don't want you to treat me like I'm a student! I – I might not be that good at it, but I'm not an _idiot_!" she snapped, aware that she sounded childish, but suddenly, she _felt_ like a child. Her confidence had been stripped from her, leaving her bare and exposed. He sighed.

"Eerin, please. I'm not trying to insult you."

"I _know_ you're not, I'm just being stupid," she muttered bitterly. He reached for her again.

"Please, will you come here? I'm still in a bit of pain, but I would like to be able to hold you for a little while," he requested gently.

In an angry huff of annoyance she moved back once again, only this time she ran out of bed, and fell with a loud _clump_ to the floor. Darcy bit his hand to conceal laughter before he peered over the edge.

"Happy now?" she sulked, staring up at him from the floor, hands folded over her stomach.

"Well, having a girl fall off the bed is certainly a first," he replied, doing a poor job of concealing his amusement. She rolled her eyes, and with the assistance of his hand pulled herself back atop the bed.

"I can't do anything right in bedrooms. I've worked that out now," she declared. "I should have realised with Maggie, but this just confirms it. I'm destined to be a crotch-kneeing, bed-faller-offerer for the rest of my life," she informed him. He smirked.

"That's quite alright. When the time comes, we'll just make love on the floor," he reasoned. She attempted to scowl at him, but laughed instead, and then shifted over to lay by his side. He wrapped an arm around her waist and her head went to rest on his shoulder.

"You're not scared I'll knee you in the privates again?" she enquired. He shook his head.

"No, I've had this bag of vegetables sitting on my lap for the past fifteen minutes, my privates really quite numb by this point," he chuckled, slowly running his hand up and down her back. His hand then moved up across her shoulders, until she twitched violently when he touched her neck. "Lord, are you alright?" he exclaimed in surprise at her strange reaction. She grabbed his hands and returned them to her shoulders.

"Alright, this is going to sound weird, but you _cannot_ touch me on the front of my neck with your hands. Ever. It makes me crazy," she insisted firmly. He fought against a smirk.

"Crazy in a good way? Because that could be useful information," he murmured with a raised brow. She shook her head firmly.

"No, crazy in a crazy, insanely oversensitive way. Maiya and I were fighting once and she tried to strangle me –" she began, as Darcy's eyes widened with alarm. "No, don't worry, she wasn't serious. But... I _really_ can't have hands touching my neck, strangulation is my biggest freak-fear, and I'll likely elbow you in the face," she warned. He chuckled, and nodded.

"Alright, I'll try to remember that. No touching your neck," he said. "Can I kiss it?" he asked thoughtfully. She blushed furiously.

"Yes, I suppose. That's not a problem, but your hands can't be anywhere near that whole area," she explained nervously.

"Alright, fair enough. If that's the case, then I have a similar problem about wrists," he replied.

"Really?" she replied with surprise, raising a brow curiously.

"Of course not, you're insane."

She rolled her eyes as he sniggered.

"Shut up, bully. Do you know how much I get teased, being a masseuse when I can't stand people touching me?" she demanded with annoyance. He continued to chuckle.

"I'm sorry, it's just... no, I'm sorry," he smiled, holding back his laughter, and moving to reach for her, before wincing slightly with his injuries.

"Hurts?" she asked sympathetically. He managed a smile.

"A little," he shrugged. Eerin looked at him thoughtfully.

"You know, I could give _you_ a massage. It's good for getting rid of pain," she commented. He looked at her with surprise.

"Are you sure?" he questioned.

"Well, not a 'happy-ending' massage, so don't get excited," she teased. He chuckled.

"Last thing from my mind," he assured her. She scoffed, and he gave another laugh. "Well, not the last thing, but if you're willing, I wouldn't mind. I can't exactly take any pain killers after the alcohol, and this is annoying me more than I'd like to admit," he explained carefully. She smiled.

"Don't worry, I _am_ trained for this," she assured him, shifting so she could sit behind him, his back leaning against her slightly. It wasn't exactly the usual position to give someone a massage, but it allowed her access to his shoulders and upper back. She pressed her fingers to his skin and began to rub small circles across his shoulders. He gave a soft sigh and closed his eyes as she worked; filling her with a small sense of pride that she could affect him so.

"Mm. You should really stop," he murmured after a few minutes. She stalled her movements.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" she questioned hastily. He shook his head with a quiet, breathy chuckle.

"No, but if you don't want me to request that 'happy-ending' this really shouldn't continue, because I don't trust myself not to do something is very inappropriate quite soon," he replied. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and shifted out from beneath him. He laughed softly at the expression on her face. "Sorry. That was... wonderful, though. It did work, but perhaps too well," he informed her fondly, reaching around her side to pull her down, her head lying against his chest. They lay together for a few minutes in silence before he finally spoke. "So. You're going to be an Aunt," he commented suddenly. She nodded excitedly.

"I didn't let myself think about it before, because we didn't know what was going on with Chase or anything, but now I'm pretty excited," she replied with a grin. "I'm going to be the _best_ Aunt ever. I'll buy it really cute clothes and shoes and toys, and when I babysit it'll never want me to leave. I'll feed it chocolate and lollies _all the time_ and spoil it rotten, and then when it's sixteen it'll chuck a hissy fit and run away to live with me, like the little brat it'll be," she laughed.

"That is _not_ how you raise a child, but as long as you think you have the general idea," he chuckled.

"It's so weird, to think that you've raised a kid who's only a little younger than I am," she murmured all of a sudden.

"I suppose... that I must seem very old to you," he said slowly. She said nothing as she played with a loose threat on his sleeve. "Eerin? Does that bother you?" he questioned, when he heard no reply. She shrugged.

"In a few years it'll seem like nothing, you know. And what does it matter, anyway?" she demanded with a frown.

"It matters quite a great deal, particularly to me."

"Oh. I suppose you _do_ think I'm too young for you," she muttered. He shook his head.

"I love your youth. I missed out on most of mine, and it's a thrilling experience to see it in you," he answered. "But... I do think that _I'm_ too old for _you_," he added, after a moment's silence.

"So what do we do about it? We just have to ignore it," she said. "I mean, there's nothing we can do to change our ages. I don't want to let you go just because you've lived longer than I have," she added emphatically.

"I don't want to let you go either. I don't _ever_ want to let you go, no matter our age difference or positions," he assured her, stroking a short strand of hair from her face. "I think... in the week we have left here we should just enjoy ourselves. We have a week in which we don't have to sneak around to hide this, we can take a walk on the beach or go into town and no one will know that what we're doing is illegal," he proposed slowly.

"You mean... sort of – see how it goes?" she questioned, quirking one perfectly sculpted brow. He nodded.

"If it feels too impossible, then we'll put it to the side for a while. We can come back to it and try again," he shrugged, pulling her a little closer. "Eerin, I know you don't understand quite yet, but I love you – so much that I can't even imagine _not_ being with you. I'm not talking about 'dating' and sleeping together, I'm talking about something that's had me completely possessed since I first saw you," he explained. She nodded, but there was still doubt clouding her dark eyes.

He knew nothing he could say would take that doubt away immediately. He would just have to wait, and show her what he meant.

"Are you... alright, with all this?" he questioned with hesitation. She shrugged, and then smiled.

"I think so. It's a little scary, but very exciting. So if you don't care about the consequences, then neither do I," she decided.

Darcy smiled as he leant in to kiss her. He had a feeling it wasn't always going to be so easy, but for now, he just wanted to hold her.

**A/N: Looooooooooooong chapter. But finally, our happy couple is together! But will they be happy for very long? Well, it's one of my fics, so no. They won't. Bahahaha. **

**Anyway, Happy New Years! I was going to do something dramatic last night like party or something, but instead my darling big brother drunkenly threw glow-sticks at me whilst demanding I drive him to his mates place, so I just had a quiet night in, listening to him vomit outside my window. Lovely. **

**Jenny: Well, according to my iPod, it is currently the 1****st**** of January, 2011, 3:16 AM in Houston, Texas, whilst in Sydney, it is the 1****st**** of January, 2011, 8:16 PM, so I am seventeen hours ahead of you, right? I don't know. I'm very bad at maths. VERY bad. But I'm glad you're enjoying this story, and thank you very much, I am having a great day (I call it day because it's still light outside and will be for a bit longer, so that counts as day for me). **

**Much love, my lovelies!**


	22. Of Giggles and Grins

"_Child, nothing's right, if you ain't here,_

_I'd give all that I have just to keep you near_

_I wrote you a letter, tried to make it clear,_

_But you just don't believe that I am sincere,_"

-Massive Attack, 'Live With Me'

"You know, I suspect we should probably leave this room at some point," Eerin laughed into Darcy's shoulder as they lay atop his bed, melting bags of vegetables still sitting on various parts of his anatomy.

"Hmm. Well, it was a good suggestion, but unfortunately I don't think you'll get a majority vote on that," he chuckled in return.

"Seriously, we've been in here for over an hour. People are going to suspect something," she pointed out. He raised a brow.

"The worst they'll suspect is that we're shagging or something equally invasive to our privacy."

"And that doesn't bother you?" she laughed. He shrugged, and smiled.

"What's our business is our business, and if I don't discuss it when we leave this room, those who know me will respect the fact that I don't want to discuss it," he reasoned simply. "And your young cousin is sleeping just down the hall. I'm not going to do anything to you that will mentally scar him," he added. Eerin sniggered into his neck.

"But we really should get out of this room. I don't know if someone's checking on the food," she added. He sighed dramatically.

"Alright, we'll get up," he finally gave in.

"Are you right? Do you need help?" she questioned, shifting away from him as he slowly sat up.

"My head is a little sore, but I think I'll survive," he assured her gently, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and groaning. "However, I suspect I'll have to get everything from my waist below amputated," he hissed, slowly rising to his feet.

"Does it really hurt so badly?" she exclaimed with surprise. He rolled his eyes.

"Thousands of nerve endings, Eerin, and one very well aimed kick. No amount of whisky and frozen vegetables will make this feel any less unpleasant," he informed her, tossing the now soggy bag down on his bedside table.

"I think you have to change," she giggled. There was a large wet patch where the frozen foods and ice packs had melted on his crotch, side, and some had trickled down his back from the stir-fry pack behind his head.

"Ah. Yes, I believe you're right," he muttered thoughtfully. He slowly stepped forwards, as if testing himself. He winced a little as he walked, but successfully crossed the room to his wardrobe, and pulled out a collared light blue shirt and beige coloured trousers.

"No more jeans?"

"I only own two pairs, which that delightful sister of mine bought for me. I rarely wear them," he assured her, pulling the shirt on but leaving it open at the front.

"Oh. Umm, I'll just – uh, go outside," she squeaked, when his hands moved to his belt. He laughed as she blushed and scampered into the hall, still holding the half-melted bags of veggies and ice. She quietly hurried up to the kitchen and put them back in the freezer before returning, just as he walked out of the room in fresh trousers.

"I'm assuming they're all out there celebrating?" he questioned, glancing to the staircase.

"I think so. Chase isn't going to beat you up again, is he?"

"If he did I'd deserve it, but I don't think he will," he assured her, sliding his arm around her slender waist and pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I don't want to share you," he said quietly. Eerin sighed. They had spoken about that – for the time being, they would keep things completely to themselves. If Maddy, Chase and Jan wanted to think anything, they wouldn't deny it, but neither of them wanted to risk anything by telling their secret.

"I don't want to share you either, but we have no other choice at the moment," she reminded him. He sighed, and nodded.

"I know you're right. You're too damn clever," he muttered, giving her one last languid kiss, before they released each other and started to ascend the stairs. 

It was as if no one had noticed they were gone when they returned to the table. Tom was up again, and eating a piece of roasted pumpkin and red capsicum pie, and the adults were chatting, sipping wine and continuously congratulating the happy couple.

"Fits, your face is broken," Tom said suddenly, when they approached the party. All immediately turned with wide eyes to see his purpling eye and jaw.

"Oh my _God_, what happened?" exclaimed Ana, immediately rushing to her big brother.

"I fell," Darcy muttered, trying to catch his friend's eye, but Chase was staring too intently at Jan to even notice him.

"It looks like you fell on someone's fist. Eerin, _you_ didn't do this to him, did you?" Maddy exclaimed as Ana dutifully inspected his injuries.

"Oh no, I just assisted him with an ice pack or two. He was being a big baby about it so I had no choice," she answered casually, taking a seat. "Fell down the stairs and hit his head on the banister. Very impressive," she added. She was almost surprised with herself for how quickly the lie came, but it was necessary. Maddy and Ana looked questioningly at him, but he said nothing.

"Well you might as well know then. Jannali and I are getting married," Chase informed his friend suddenly, not even bothering with eye contact. Darcy looked up with hesitation, and then smiled.

"I wish you both the best of luck. I can't imagine two people better suited for each other," he replied graciously, but his tone was sincere. A look of guilt flashed over Chase's face, but he swallowed it back with half a glass of wine and turned back to Jan.

"So have you guys decided where you want to live?" Eerin questioned, dishing Darcy a piece of the pie and some warm salad. He gave her a small smile of thanks as he accepted the plate, causing her to blush as she cut herself a piece and sat down.

"Well, uh, I think we'd both prefer Australia," Jan threw in, glancing to Chase, who smiled.

"Wherever you want, sweetheart," he replied gently, giving her hand a soft squeeze. But Eerin wasn't really listening, because beneath the table Darcy's hand was sitting on her thigh, his thumb stroking light, lazy circles over the thin cotton of her dress.

"Uhh... um, and w – when do you think you'll have the wedding?" she questioned, trying to find a single coherent thought in her now clouded mind.

"Well, we were thinking in about a month or so, neither of us want something big, so it shouldn't be too difficult," Chase answered, holding his fiancée's hand and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. She blushed prettily in response.

"We want the baby to be a Bingley, so that's why we want to do this soon," she informed those assembled, with a gentle hand on her still-flat stomach. "Rin, you'll be my Maid of Honour?" she requested, her eyes shining hopefully as she turned to her sister.

"Hmm? What? Oh – of course!" she assured her with a bright smile, causing Jan to beam even more than before.

But Eerin was more focused on the fact that Darcy's hand had now slid down to her knee, and was slowly making its way back up her thigh, pushing the skirt of her dress up with it. She tried to distract herself by pouring a glass of wine, only to spill more than a little over the rim. She blushed and quickly dabbed the small puddle with a serviette, doing her best not to draw attention to herself. She sent Darcy a chastising glance, but he only smirked, and continued tracing invisible patterns over her inner thigh, sending torturous shivers throughout her entire body.

Somehow the single meal seemed to spread out until nightfall – those assembled were hazy with wine, good food and the cool sea air rolling off the foamy white waves and over the sweet smelling grass, intoxicating them beneath the twilight. When dusk began to appear Maddy returned to the house with a sleeping Tom and Ana made her excuses to go have a shower, while Jan and Chase announced their intension to go for a 'walk'. Considering the closed door to Chase's room, both Darcy and Eerin rather doubted much walking would be involved.

"Serendipity, Eerin," Darcy sighed, smiling lazily to his companion.

"You're mean. I could hardly concentrate all afternoon," she scowled, but there was no conviction in her voice, and she allowed a laugh to ripple from her lips before speaking again. "Things are starting to fit together, you know. For Jan and Chase, for you and I, it... it makes more sense now," she commented with a soft smile, staring out to the dark blue ocean before her.

"I agree. And I for one am quite glad for it," he assured her, reaching for her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. She turned to him, an almost dreamy expression on her face. But before long that dreamy expression turned into a small frown, and she turned back out to the endless marine abyss that spread out before her. "What is it?" he questioned with concern.

"It fits. Too easily. I – I just think it seems a little too good to be true," she answered quietly. "I have this feeling... I don't know if you would understand. I just don't think it's going to be this easy for long," she murmured, as if to herself.

"You're just not used to this yet. When you're a little more comfortable, you'll realise that sometimes good things can happen," he assured her gently. She nodded, and sighed at her own stupidity.

"I'm being silly, I know," she laughed, pulling her knees up beneath her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs.

"No, you're being cautious. Eerin, things are going to work out in the end. I won't let them fall apart, I'm in this for keeps, not matter how this goes," he swore, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. She turned into him and responded with a lazy sort of ardour, as if kissing him was now second nature to her – even though it felt so very thrilling. "I was going to kiss you when we were dancing at your birthday party, you know. But the song ended too soon," he murmured, pulling away from her slightly, and glanced back into the house at the stereo.

"Well, I suppose we just have to pick a longer song," she reasoned with a playful laugh, jumping out of her chair and rushing over to the stereo. She flicked through tracks for a moment before settling on one she liked, and crossed the room to rejoin him on the balcony. "So, Professor Darcy, will you dance with me?" she requested cheekily. He grinned and reached for her hand as the classically eighties love song came out over the speakers.

"_At sunset you hear the soft parade is coming  
And the cars and the beast behind, they all start humming,  
And ooh you got a cool machine, so let's get it runnin'  
We'll break the silence of the night,  
And you know they're gonna hear us comin'_

_We always see them whisper, we know they're gonna talk,  
They fantasise the mysteries about the night and the dark_,"

He held her tight and yet softly against him as they moved, ever so slightly, but for the most part just clung to each other.

"_So baby one more kiss, baby one more kiss,  
We never have to say goodbye  
Oh one more kiss, baby one more kiss,  
It brings a little luck to the night,_"

"I was about eleven or twelve when this song came out, you know," he murmured against her short dark hair. "My mother used to like singing it. It was my favourite for quite some time," he added.

"Well, I wasn't alive when it was released, but I still love it," she laughed against his shoulder. "It sounds so sad, but... I don't think it is. I don't know. It's beautiful. Well, this version is. I hate the one with the weird eighties dance music in the middle."

Darcy chuckled against her as the music and the sea air swirled around them. He wanted that song to last forever; he wanted their dance to never end. He felt a crippling sense of dread grip him – because he _knew_ what they were doing was wrong, and they were going to get hurt by it in the end. But there, on that balcony, while listening to that song and holding her so tightly, it was like nothing could hurt them. Not while he was still trembling with the realisation that whatever game they had been playing was now won – because he had _her_, he was holding her and nothing else in the world could possibly matter when he had Eerin Beaumont in his arms.

"This is all very sudden, you know," he commented quietly.

"Too sudden?" she questioned, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

"Not for me – but what about you?" he asked almost tentatively. She shrugged.

"I was thinking about that. I don't know, normally I get so freaked out with guys and I just... pull away," she murmured. "But with you..." she pulled back slightly, and met his emerald eyes with her dark ones. She looked perfectly helpless at that moment – it was an image he was sure would be imprinted in his mind forever. "I don't know. I don't want to run yet," was all she could find herself saying. He smiled, and brushed a strand of dark hair back.

"Obviously you didn't just decide you might find it in you to have feelings for me an hour ago."

She laughed, and shook her head. "No. I think it's been coming on for a while now. Since I read that letter," she admitted. "I kept on thinking about you all the time, and I realised that w – what I _thought_ was just anger and even hatred was..." she trailed off, and have a nervous sort of shrug. She tentatively glanced up and hazarded a small smile. He leant forwards slightly to press his lips against her brow. "I've always had some sort of... passion when it comes to you. It just took me a while to work out what it was," she explained, her voice somewhat strained.

"I know what you mean. You kept on sneaking under my skin and before I knew it I couldn't get rid of you," he chuckled affectionately. She rolled her dark eyes.

"And why would you _want_ to get rid of me?" she challenged. He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist once more.

"That's not what I meant," he said. "Eerin, you must know the hold you have on me. I – I _used_ to be very controlled. But not with you," he murmured.

It struck him then, the importance of it all. The importance of what they were doing at that very moment – how very important it was that he didn't screw it up. He'd come to realise that loving Eerin Beaumont was not something one did with passive affection, it was all or nothing – if he didn't throw himself in his entirety into her then they would simply fall apart. She had already consumed him with those enchanting dark eyes – from the very first moment of their acquaintance there had been some sort of love that was no bigger than a seed – and while he was busy with pushing her away, that seed had grown, until it was now the largest tree he'd ever had to climb. He knew that they had said they would see how it went, but those were just words. Neither of them were looking at the blossoming relationship as a hit and miss opportunity, it was something definite and real and something that simply _had_ to work out, or it would irreparably damage them both.

"I used to be cold. I don't know – maybe I still am, but you... make me feel – warm," she attempted to explain, frowning slightly at her own terminology. He chuckled.

"Hmm. You make me feel quite warm too," he smirked. She winced and screwed her eyes shut.

"I _so_ didn't mean for that to be libido-based," she firmly insisted.

"Well I did."

She laughed against his chest; her he joined her amusement with his own chuckles.

She was surprised with herself for not being more frightened. But there was just something so comforting about the way he held her. She didn't feel any need to pretend or to please him; she just wanted to _be_ and to have him be with her. It was like she felt sleepy for him – she wanted to put everything in aside and just stay with Darcy for all eternity.

"You know, I should probably go back to the beach house now," she commented after a few more minutes. He held her a little tighter.

"Don't. Stay with me tonight," he requested, his voice insistent against her ear. She shivered, but he had warned her – she knew she had to remain wilful.

"I can't, you know I can't."

"We don't have to do anything, really. Just let me hold you tonight, I've been waiting to hold you like this for months," he practically begged, holding her tighter still.

"And if we went to your room you wouldn't try anything?" she questioned with a raised brow. He huffed impetuously. "Darcy, you and I _both_ know it wouldn't be a good idea," she reminded him.

"Fine. But I want to see you tomorrow," he insisted. She gently bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing, and nodded.

"Normally when I'm up here I go for an early morning walk on the beach. You should join me tomorrow," she suggested. He looked thoughtful, and nodded.

"Alright. Is seven too early?"

"Perfect. Now I should really go, I told Maddy I'd only be a few minutes when she left," she reminded him with an apologetic smile, pulling herself out of his arms. "Do you need help with this?" she questioned, gesturing to the plates on the table. He shook his head.

"No, you're right, we don't want that Aunt of yours to worry," he assured her, sliding his hand down her forearm to entwine his fingers with hers. "Come on then, I'll walk you over," he offered, leading them off the balcony.

The night air was warm and sweet as they strolled over the soft grass that ran up to the edge of the rocks, on which the waves crashed against at high tide. It was one of those poignant, romantic moments Eerin knew she was destined to remember for the rest of her days, walking with entwined fingers, her head leaning against his arm. They didn't speak, after so much time spent arguing at every turn, words were no longer necessary for communication. And they were simply content to be near each other.

They stopped just beyond where the light from the kitchen of the small cottage illuminated the dark blue grass to make their goodbyes.

"Seven o'clock, on the beach," he reminded her. She smiled, and wound her arms around his neck. She raised herself to her toes and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, which increased in fervour when he responded eagerly. It was a few minutes before she finally managed to tear herself away, and with one last peck on the cheek she returned to the house, unable to stop smiling. She turned off the kitchen light so she could see out into the night, watching him slowly turn, hands in his pockets, and stroll back up the beach, every now and then turning to look over his shoulder with a small smile.

She sighed as she poured herself a glass of water in the near-darkness, the kitchen gently illuminated by the blue light of the moon. The bench was cool against her burning skin as she sat on the edge, still staring out into the night. After a few minutes she could see him reappear on the balcony, which was just visible from the kitchen. He wandered out to the edge, and knelt against the barrier almost lazily, staring out into the ocean, with its slow shadowed boats and blinking green lights gleaming over the black waves. From that distance he was only a silhouette, but from the way he stood, she was quite sure he was smiling.

So she smiled. And she meant it.

**A/N: Well, this is a shorter chappie, I'm afraid, after that last really long one. This is really just fluff-based this little bit, and the song Eerin and Darcy danced to was 'One More Kiss' by Meat Loaf. It has this really awkward, horrible eighties dance music in the middle, but there's a version without that strange interlude, so that's the one they were dancing to, if anyone knows this song and got freaked out with the thought of legwarmers suddenly appearing on all characters. :D  
**

**To the anonymous reviewer, sorry I can't be more specific as you didn't leave a name. I double checked and I was right, Sydney is seventeen hours ahead of Houston, Texas. I don't know if you got a little confused with dates or something, but it hardly matters, I don't have a certain time that I update so it doesn't matter how ahead or behind Sydney is from anywhere in the world. Also, I never claimed Sydney was better than Melbourne, I believe **_**Eerin**_** (fictional character) said she likes Sydney better than Melbourne, but that was all, and that's personal preference. I hardly think the fact that some politician didn't like that Federal Parliament wasn't in New South Wales (which is a very simplified version of the issue) means that any city is better or worse than the other. Politicians are not representatives of a place or an individual. Sorry if I sound rude, but I really don't like receiving reviews of that nature. I have no interest in arguing which city is better, because I don't know Melbourne well enough to say if it is better or not. I like Melbourne quite a lot, I like the shopping and I like the galleries, but I also like Sydney. I am in no way nationalistic in any respects of my life. I have my opinion, you have yours, so I would rather if we could leave it at that and not take cheap shots at each other's cities. **

**Sorry, I'm in a poor mood (ran out of milo), but I am glad you like the story and I hope you continue reading despite my rudeness. **

**-Evie**


	23. Of Walks and Williams

"_But for one crowded hour,_

_You were the only one in the room_

_And I sailed around all those bumps in the night,_

_To your beacon in the gloom,"_

-Augie March, 'One Crowded Hour'

True to her word, Eerin dressed herself in a hurry to meet Darcy on the beach at seven. She had hardly slept at all that night, her mind so full of the events of the past day. She couldn't help but grin as she pulled on an oversized white tee-shirt that seemed to envelop her entire body and some faded denim shorts with some rather obvious rips. She grabbed the first cardigan she could find – light blue and floral – and tossed a pair of thongs in her shoulder bag before slipping out of the house with a small note to Maddy.

_Gone for a walk, might go into town for brekkie. Have a nice sleep in, love Rinny._

She spotted him sitting on the orange rocks, wearing jeans, a v-neck and a woolly forest green cardigan that gave him a wonderfully bohemian look. She had to admit; when he wasn't dressed in a suit and tie he was very much the kind of man she tended to go for.

"Hullo," she greeted cheerfully as she climbed down the rocks. He turned immediately, and a nervous smile broke out over his features.

"Morning," he returned, reaching for her hand to assist her down to the ground. He surprised her by lifting her suddenly from beneath her arms, pressing a kiss to her lips, and then depositing her before him.

"Well, that was a greeting and a half," she laughed. He leant down and kissed her properly, winding his arms around her waist. "Hope I wasn't late," she chuckled against his mouth. He shook his head.

"No, but I was hoping you might be early. I've been here for fifteen minutes," he replied, eyes dancing with humour.

"Well that just shows you how silly you are," she laughed, slipping her hands around his waist beneath his cardigan. "I like this. I might just borrow it," she grinned, delighting in the very 'Darcy' smell.

"I've noticed your propensity to wear men's clothing. This, I take, didn't originally belong to you?" he questioned, running the hem of the large white shirt between his fingers. She laughed.

"Well, you're right on that score. It was actually my cousin's. He gave me his wardrobe when he lost a bit of weight, knowing my love of all clothing ridiculously baggy," she informed him with a grin.

"Good. I was worried it might be an ex-boyfriend's," he replied.

"Ah. Well, a few things from my wardrobe _are_, actually," she giggled, biting against her bottom lip. He gave a wary groan, causing her to laugh harder.

"Oh dear. Well, I'll try to keep my jealousy in good command. Shall we?" he suggested, gesturing to the stretch of white beach before them. They linked arms and started, the sand cool and soft against Eerin's uncovered feet, occasionally foamy waves dancing up to wet her toes.

"So, I've been thinking," she declared suddenly, a few minutes after they had started. He raised a brow and glanced down to her.

"This sounds dangerous."

"Quiet, you. It's about your name," she playfully chastised him. He grinned, and nodded.

"I'm listening."

"Well, I don't know how I feel calling you 'Darcy'," she admitted. He slowly nodded.

"Well, just call me 'Fitz' then," he shrugged.

"I was actually thinking 'William'," she explained, almost tentatively. He frowned.

"But _no one_ calls me that."

"No one calls _me_ 'Kimba'," she retorted simply. He sighed.

"I'm quite serious; I was only named 'William' to appease my grandfather, and even _he_ called me 'Fitz'," he explained.

"Well I want to call you William. Or Will. I don't care, either of those," she insisted. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and nodded.

"Alright, but I probably won't notice if you call out 'William' and expect me to turn around," he warned. She grinned.

"Well, that's why I plan on training you to like that name," she decided simply. He raised a brow and stopped walking.

"Oh? And how, my dear, do you plan on training me to like the name that I've ignored for the past thirty-four years?" he questioned.

She smiled, and stood on the balls of her feet to press a kiss against his neck, murmuring 'William' as she went. She then shifted over to the other side of his neck with another kiss and another whispered 'William', before trailing her way over his jaw, beneath his earlobe, against the dip at the bottom of his throat, all the while murmuring his name. She felt, rather than heard him swallow and place his hand on the small of her back.

"Well. Perhaps you might have a good idea there," he managed to get out between her kisses. She couldn't help but grin.

"Good. Well, let's keep on walking then, _William_," she suggested, pulling away rather suddenly and continuing their stroll. She heard him give an impetuous huff, which only made her smirk grow.

"Have I ever told you that you're a tease?" he muttered bitterly. She laughed as she glanced over her shoulder to him.

"Really? Nup. Must just be you," she grinned. He rolled his eyes and released their hands, preferring to place his on the side of her hip instead. She felt a small thrill run through her, but it was met with a feeling of intense comfort and something that just told her it was _right_.

They continued to walk, for the most part in happy silence, passing a few people every now and then, locals, other tourists, elderly couples, dog walkers, to which Eerin greeted them each with a smile and a polite 'howareya'.

"If I have to give one more awkward smile and a 'fine thanks', I'm going to hit someone," he murmured to her after the fifth polite greeting.

"You remind me of an English show I watched once. I don't know if you know it, it's called 'Grumpy Old Men'," she teased. He fought a smile, but he couldn't help but give a chuckle.

"Stop being cruel. I'm getting used to social greetings, have patience," he retorted, his eyes twinkling playfully.

They continued up until the end of the beach where they hit the marina, and decided they might as well go get some breakfast at Salamander Bay.

"It's not that far a walk up, we just have to cut across here," she explained, as they strolled through a small park, where one or two children were already playing.

"You must have _very_ hard feet," he commented thoughtfully, noting that she still hadn't put her shoes on, although they were now walking across a black tarred road.

"I hate shoes. I like the way they look, but I get so bored of wearing them," she shrugged. He chuckled.

"Another thing that's not popular in England. Although, when I was young –"

"Shoes weren't invented."

"Funny. Really," he scowled, but it lacked any conviction and his eyes were dancing with humour. "At Harrow there was a boy who lived in Africa on the holidays, and he would come back and walk across gravel without a care in the world. We thought he was incredible. But by the time the term was over his feet were soft again," he informed her.

"Gravel isn't so bad. It's the bindy eyes that annoy me, but you really only find those in dry grass," she shrugged, wrinkling her nose slightly at the thought.

Darcy couldn't help but chuckle a little. She was just so... sweet. She really was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

They had breakfast at a sleepy little café and wandered around the shops for a little while before returning to the beach. The day was starting to warm up and more people were emerging from cottages and the resort to the beach, but despite onlookers, Darcy didn't feel the need to really shy away from physical affection. He was comforted by the foreign environment, where he knew no one and where no one knew him, and he was able to have his hand on the small of Eerin's back (and occasionally he would slide it down to a place rather inappropriate for a teacher to be touching) without caution.

"Maddy and I were going to take Tom to the shell museum this morning. I'd better go in," she commented, glancing up to the row of houses when they were coming closer to the other end of the beach.

"She doesn't need you there. Ana can go and you can stay with me," he objected. She laughed.

"Maddy will work it out," she assured him.

"Well let's just tell her. I doubt she'd say anything to anyone, and she'd certainly understand," he decided. Eerin gently bit her lip.

She had her own reasons for not wanting to tell Maddy. What if it hurt her feelings? After all, it was only two nights ago when she said she was interested in Darcy – she would probably think her selfish little niece made a move just out of jealousy.

"I – I don't think that would be a good idea," she murmured.

"I know she would approve, she's a clever woman, and it would be good if at least _someone_ knew," he reasoned. She stopped walking and crossed her arms, glaring at the sand beneath her feet.

"I just think Maddy shouldn't know."

"Why?" he questioned, turning to face her. She huffed.

"Because she _likes_ you, you – you big fat idiot-head!" she snapped childishly. Darcy sniggered at the ridiculousness of her insult.

"First of all, congratulations for the 'big fat idiot-head', my dear, that was truly inspired," he teased, before taking a step forwards. "And secondly, while I find your jealousy absolutely adorable, your Aunt doesn't like me. She was baiting you. I thought it was quite obvious, but I suppose you just didn't think she knew there was something between us," he continued, placing his hands on the sides of her arms. She scowled.

"She _said_ she liked you."

"Sweetheart, she was trying to make you jealous. I noticed yesterday," he assured her gently.

"Well how can you be so sure?" she demanded with a petulant frown.

Darcy sighed, and raised his hands to push a few stray strands of her from the sides of her face.

"Because. She confronted me the night before last and wanted to know how I felt about you. I didn't say much, but she certainly picked up on it," he explained simply. Eerin's cheeks flushed in annoyance.

"But she's my _Aunt_," she reminded him. He nodded.

"And thus, trying to help you. I was very grateful for it, I doubt you would have been so upfront about what you're starting to feel if it hadn't been for her," he commented. She gave a long sigh, and then finally nodded in understanding.

"Alright, we might as well tell her then. But I don't want to tell Jan. Not yet," she insisted. He smiled.

"Of course. What about Ana?" he questioned. Eerin chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"Well I suppose so, and Richard, if you particularly want. I just don't want you to get in trouble – so I don't think you should tell Chase, either," she advised. He nodded.

"That would be a good idea. Chase is well-meaning, but he might let something slip to Carol, and _that_ would be a very bad idea," he replied, almost wincing with the thought. "So, we tell Maddy and Ana. That should give us plenty of time together for this week," he decided.

"What about Richard?" she enquired, quirking a brow curiously. Darcy's mouth drew to a tight line.

"I haven't spoken to him for a month," he admitted. Both Eerin's brows rose in surprise.

"But I thought you were close?"

"We were, before he –" he stopped himself. "If you two hadn't been arguing you never would have been hit by that car, and you never would have found out about..." he trailed off, his voice terse.

"It wasn't Richard's fault I got hit by a car, and I'm glad he told me," she insisted. He still scowled. "I think you should talk to Richard. I don't see him having done anything wrong, and he doesn't deserve to be shut out like that," she advised sternly.

"I'll call him next week, I swear. But please, don't try to bring it up again, I just want to enjoy whatever time we have together this week," he replied, pressing a firm kiss against her temple. She nodded in agreement.

"Alright, but promise you'll call him?"

Darcy nodded. "Of course. If you want me to, I will," he swore. She gave a small smile, and pressed her lips against his, as if in appreciation of his promise. He wound his arms around her waist and lifted her a few inches from the ground, still against his chest, so he could kiss her with more ease. She laughed against his mouth.

"I'm so damn short," she sniggered. He too chuckled before recapturing her lips, and it was another few minutes before they finally parted.

"Alright. Shall we?" he suggested, trying to even his breathing. She blushed with secret joy that _she_ had made his breathe quicken so, but hid it well. He moved his hand back to the side of her hip as they headed up the rocks back to the beach house, before her face flushed bright red when he shifted his hand to brush a little too slowly over her bum before he finally removed it.

"_William_!" she scolded. He smirked.

"Now that is _not_ positive reinforcement. If you want me to like my name you had best not use that tone, my dear," he advised teasingly, before they walked over to the veranda outside the cottage.

"Hi Fits!" Tom greeted excitedly, sitting at the breakfast table, dipping toast soldiers into his runny egg.

"Hullo there Tom, having your breakfast, are you?" Darcy smiled, ruffling the young boy's hair.

"Oh, hey Darcy. Hungry?" Maddy questioned, glancing up from fixing tea in the kitchen to see the guests.

"No, thank you, Eerin and I had breakfast in town," he replied with a polite smile. Maddy looked suspiciously between the two, but said nothing, bringing the teapot over to the table.

"Well would you two like some tea? Tom and I are just having some breakfast before I take him over to the shell museum," she offered.

"I wouldn't say no to a cup, thank you," he smiled, as Eerin got mugs.

"Spider Man! _Spider Man_!" Tom insisted, rejecting the light blue cup his cousin placed before him. She laughed, and then fetched the cartoon mug for Tom's tea.

"You can have the normal person mug," Eerin decided with a laugh, before pouring the tea into three other cups.

"So you two met each other on a walk?" Maddy questioned, her tone far from subtle.

"Actually, we planned to meet this morning," Darcy answered simply, accepting his tea with a smile and a mouthed 'thank you'.

"Hmm. Interesting that," Maddy hummed with a small grin. "Ah, so Darcy, would you like to come to the shell museum this morning? Should be lots of fun," she suggested.

"Actually, I was wondering if I might borrow Eerin today," he replied lightly.

"Can we have Ana instead?" Tom asked eagerly. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"Love you too, bub," she laughed, ruffling her cousin's hair. He giggled into his tea.

"Of course you can, we'll just see if Ana wants to come instead," Maddy replied with a warm smile. "So – uh, any plans, you two?" she questioned innocently. Eerin shrugged.

"Not really. We might take another walk, whatever," was all she replied.

"That'd be nice. I'm sure you two would benefit from some... time together. To... discuss things, I suppose," she smirked. Eerin blushed and sat down, as if to detract attention from herself, and Darcy lowered his eyes to his tea. It seemed as if Maddy thought they hadn't admitted their feelings yet – and was trying to push them together.

Darcy had no desire to simply say 'your niece and I are in a relationship'. He wanted her to know automatically, with no doubt, and for there to be no discussion. He wanted it an accepted but unstated fact. So, with a lack of any better ideas, he placed his hand on the back of her head and gently ran his thumb by her shell-like ear, just above her apparently over-sensitive neck, in a gesture of affectionate familiarity. Maddy's eyes widened slightly, but she sipped her tea in silence.

"Fits, why'you touching Rinny? Are you her girlfriend?" Tom asked curiously. Darcy chuckled.

"That word only works when you're a girl, Tom," he reminded him. Tom frowned.

"Well... do you love Rinny like Janni loves Case?" he questioned, almost as if he were annoyed with Darcy for not understanding his meaning.

"Well, I personally think I love her more than Jannali loves Chase, but yes, I suppose that's one way of saying it," he answered with a small smile.

"So you're her girlfriend?"

"Tom, what am I?"

"Fits."

"No, am I a boy or a girl?"

"Boy?"

"Thank you for being so sure of that," Darcy chuckled. "So would I be Eerin's 'girlfriend' or her '_boy_friend'?" he questioned patiently. Tom looked thoughtful.

"Boy... friend?" he offered finally. Darcy smiled.

"That's right. Not that I really consider that an appropriate term for a man of my age," he replied. Tom started to giggle.

"_Rinny and Fits, sitting in a treeeeee, C-I-S... P... I-M-E,_" Tom started to sing gleefully.

"He can't spell, in case you didn't realise," Maddy informed them beneath her breath.

"_First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby sitting in a carriage_!" he continued happily.

Eerin's face went bright red.

Darcy covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

Maddy grinned into her tea cup.

"Why do they put babies in carriages?" Tom asked curiously.

"So they don't run away, chook. Now finish your breakfast, and no more of that song," Maddy instructed in her best 'Mummy-Knows-Best' voice. Tom dutifully slurped another mouthful of tea and continued to play with his toast.

"Your son is very... perceptive," Darcy laughed, when Tom finally finished and hurried off to get changed. Maddy grinned.

"Oh yes. Like his Mum, I suppose," she laughed, standing up and glancing between the two. "Sorry about that, by the way. He's a little obvious sometimes," she apologised. Eerin was still red-faced.

"That's fine. But... would you ask him not to mention this to anyone else? Not even Jannali?" he requested. Maddy raised a brow. "You must know that due to my position... well, it would be very detrimental if the wrong people found out about us," he explained meaningfully, taking a seat next to Eerin.

"Of course. I must say, I'm flattered you decided to tell me," she commented with a smile. "Darcy, would you mind asking your sister if she wants to come to the museum today? I just want a quick word with my niece," she requested. Darcy nodded, and rose to his feet.

"I'll be back in a minute," he assured Eerin, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head and leaving the beach house.

Eerin took a deep breath and turned to her Aunt, trying to gage her expression. She looked... wary, if not a little sad.

"Rin, you know I have my reasons for wanting you to be careful," she said quietly. Eerin nodded.

It wasn't well-known, the story of how Tom came to be. It was a good six years ago, when Maddy had decided to go to TAFE four years after leaving school, to study business management. One of her teachers thought a little too kindly for her, and they began to date in secret. It wasn't until she was already pregnant with Tom that she discovered he had a wife and three children of his own, and wasn't interested in the scandal surrounding a fourth. He paid some child support, but she hadn't seen him since telling him about her pregnancy.

"Of course. But... I mean, Darcy's not going to impregnate me and leave me in the lurch, Maddy. You know he won't," she objected. Maddy gave a small, almost wistful smile and reached for her niece's hand over the table.

"I just want to you be on your toes, and on the pill, while you're at it. I don't doubt that Darcy loves you, _very_ much. And I think he's a good man. But I've been wrong before," she reminded her. Eerin nodded, and lowered her dark eyes.

"I know. But I know what I'm doing, I swear I do. I think I'm beginning to love him, Maddy," she replied quietly. Her Aunt smiled.

"Well then I want the best for you. But just... be careful, please. For me," she begged. There was a tone of desperation there that struck Eerin deeply, and she couldn't even say why. It just did.

"Of course. I promise," she swore. Maddy gave a relieved sigh, and nodded.

"Alright then. Well, I suppose you two are going to be at it all day, so I think I might take Tom to the park later," she smirked. Eerin's cheeks flushed bright red.

"_Maddy_!"

"You blush _way_ too easily, Rinny. When Tom made that comment about the babies I thought you'd turned into a tomato," she sniggered.

"That's not funny. I don't want you to put babies in Darcy's head – he already said he wants another one at dinner last night," she scowled.

"Hey, until he's put a ring on your finger he's not going to be making any babies, missy," she replied, trying to hide the amusement from her voice, but she did so unsuccessfully. "I'm happy for you, Rin," she said warmly.

"I'm happy for me too."

With one last nod and a comforting smile, Maddy left the kitchen to go change for a day out. Eerin sighed, and strolled out to the veranda overlooking the beach.

"Ana is thrilled to bits," came a sudden voice from beside her, and warm arms enveloped her small frame. She smiled and leant back into Darcy's chest.

"Good. Maddy wants me to be careful," she returned.

"Hmm. Is she concerned I'm only out for a quick shag with a younger woman?" he questioned dryly.

"Actually, more like you'll impregnate me and then end up having a wife and three kids," she shrugged. Darcy tensed slightly.

"Is that what happened to her?" he questioned quietly. She nodded. "Men that do that disgust me. It's weak and pathetic," he practically spat. "Eerin, if something like that happened I would forget my job, I'd do everything an honourable man should and I would be the most devoted father and husband I could be," he assured her firmly.

"I know that. I told Maddy you're not like that at all," she replied, tilting her head back to press a kiss against his shoulder. "So, any plans for today?" she questioned curiously.

"Anything you want, my dear. We can go out, we can stay in, we can wander around the beach, whatever your heart desires," he replied with a smile.

"'My dear'?" she challenged, fighting a grin. He shrugged.

"I was watching _Bambi_ recently."

"I want a ridiculous name for _you_ now," she pouted.

"I thought you were already trying to use 'William'," he replied innocently, but his eyes danced with amusement. She playfully stuck her tongue out.

"You're not funny. Now, are Jan and Chase still at your place?" she questioned.

"Ana said they were going into town for the day, I think they wanted a day away from me to discuss things," he replied.

"So we might as well go back to yours, I can't think of much else to do," she shrugged. As Darcy couldn't think of anything else exciting either, they linked hands and headed back to his beach house. Upon arrival they were greeted with a very excited Ana, who was on her way to meet Tom and Maddy before going to the shell museum. Darcy had informed her upon returning to the house a few minutes prior, and she physically could not have been happier to see them holding hands.

"I'm _so_ glad you two are together now. You're so perfect for each other!" she practically giggled.

"Just as long as you don't say anything to Jannali and Chase, cricket," he reminded her sternly. She mimed zipping her lips while still bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Alright, I've got to go, but I'm _so_ happy for you!" she squealed finally, before hugging each of them tightly and running up the beach to the cottage. Darcy chuckled as he watched her go.

"She's pretty impressive, that girl," Eerin commented with a smile.

"Hmm. I'm proud of her," he agreed, somewhat smugly.

"Is she always this excited about you having girlfriends?" she enquired as they headed into the house.

"I don't really tell Ana about my... well, unless I'm quite serious about a woman, Ana isn't generally informed," he shrugged, glancing to her rather purposely. She felt a small thrill at that.

"And how often does that happen?"

"Including you? Not often. Twice. More like one and a bit."

"You really have to tell me about this Laura girl," she huffed. He gave a smirk.

"Why? You're adorably jealous. And anyway, it's not pretty," he assured her.

"Seriously, William. I want to know," she requested, her voice losing its humour. He looked grave for a moment, and then nodded.

"Alright, but let's sit down, at least," he sighed.

They went upstairs and onto the balcony where they had eaten last night. There was a wicker outdoor lounge with comfortable latte-coloured cushions where they seated themselves, overlooking the now green ocean, seagulls swooping over the waves.

"So. I met Laura when I was still in England, doing a televised debate about the methodology involved in the deciphering of iconography and whether or not it's too biased an art," he began.

Eerin blinked.

"Romantic."

"Very. Laura held a doctorate in ancient art, she was from Cambridge whereas I was Oxford, so of course we were opposing in the debate; we met after for a few drinks and... well, we got along," he shrugged.

"By 'got along' you mean you two had sex on a first date, right?" she challenged. He rolled his eyes.

"Alright, _yes_. But we were both mature adults and knew what we were doing," he assured her. "This was a few years. I was teaching a great deal at Oxford, but not my own class, like I have here. This was for the most part just guest lecturing and research, so I was still able to live in London and just do the long commute," he added.

"Hey, I know all about long drives to Uni. So? How long were you together?" she questioned.

"About eighteen months. We moved in together after a year, when Ana was still at boarding school," he continued. "I... was disillusioned about Laura. She was intelligent, educated and attractive –"

"What did she look like?"

Darcy sighed. "She was quite tall, dark hair, dark eyes, her grandmother was Indian," he explained simply. Eerin nodded in understanding.

"Indian girls are always gorgeous. I'm already jealous. Go on."

He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I thought she was someone who she wasn't. It took me eighteen months to realise that she wasn't interested in me, only my money and my reputation, and asked her to move out. This was about a year ago," he finished simply.

"See, I never understand that. Why people do all sorts of weird things for ridiculous amounts of money. I mean, what could you _possibly_ spend it all on?" she questioned incredulously. Darcy chuckled.

"Your innocence is wonderful, but unfortunately the world is full of people who don't think that at all."

"I'm sorry. Did you love her very much?" she asked softly, shifting so she could lean against his side, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I don't think so. At the time I thought I did, but looking back, I don't really think it was love at all. Just... a desire to feel loved," he shrugged simply. "And I certainly didn't love her like I love you. I never saw a future," he added.

"And do you see a future with me?" Eerin questioned, almost lazily as she continued to shift to find a comfortable position.

Darcy gave a small smile as she moved to lie on the lounge with her head in his lap, arms crossed over her stomach. He wanted to tell her that he _did_, he wanted to tell her all about how they would live at Pemberley during the holidays and London the rest of the year, he wanted to detail their wedding and how many children they would have and how they would spend their evenings in the library, or perhaps propose an idea about how they could travel and work together on books and research, but he saw how red her face was when Tom had innocently sung that rhyme – she wasn't ready.

"Hmm. Sometimes," he murmured, stroking her hair back with gentle fingers. She smiled, and brought up some interesting topic or other, allowing them to sink into comfortable conversation.

She wasn't ready yet.

But he couldn't wait until she was.

**A/N: Not that I really do dedications, but this chapter is dedicated to ****Pasqui Yslas (sorry you're going through a rough time at home, so hopefully a little bit of fluff will make things better :D) and Bonbonnett, who has finally explained to me why Americans don't use the letter 'u' enough; "it's our little attempt at 'going green' by conserving space". My quest to discover that reasoning has been successful :D**

**So, in this chappie we see a little about Maddy and the cat has left the bag. Well, slightly. Just a bit more cuteness and chatting and all of that fluffy nonsense before we have a slow decline into utter chaos, just the way I like it. **


	24. Of Warnings and Worries

"_We rush ahead, the crossroads are empty,_

_Our spirits rise, they're not gonna get us_

_My love for you, always forever,_

_Just you and me, all else is nothing,_"

-TATU, 'Not Gonna Get Us'

The next few days passed with blissful ease. Jannali and Chase spent every moment possible together, flittering through plans for the wedding, doctors appointments and applications for all the best pree-schools in Sydney, real-estate meetings to find the 'perfect' house that was within a good distance to both their offices and the finest schools of the city, they didn't physically have time to stop and notice the blossoming relationship going on before them.

Not that Chase would have taken much notice to Darcy anyway, as he hadn't said a word to him since arriving. He spoke amicably with Ana, Maddy, Eerin and Tom (on which he attempted to get some good parenting practise), but to Darcy he was as cold as ice, and Eerin could see it was starting to cause some damage.

She spent most of her time with Darcy, either with Maddy, Ana and Tom or alone, and she was beginning to read the signs of his anxiety. He was quieter than usual, particularly when the topic of the baby or the wedding came up in conversation, he was polite to the point of insanity to Jan (who of course, being as amicable and angelic as she was, saw no evil in what little she knew of his involvement), and he said nothing when Chase was in the room, merely glanced at him almost desperately to try and gage his feelings.

"He's going to forgive you, you know," Eerin said suddenly one afternoon. Darcy glanced up from the sand he was glaring at beneath his feet.

"Sorry?"

"I said that Chase is going to forgive you, eventually," she repeated with a comforting smile, shifting on the warm orange rock to wind one tanned arm around his waist. He attempted to mimic her expression, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"We'll see."

"And I think it'll be soon, too. He'll want you as his best man, which means he's got at the most a month to cool off. I think it's plenty of time. He doesn't have enough friends to ignore you," she reminded him laughingly. Darcy slowly nodded, and turned to stare out to the sun sinking beneath the dark blue horizon, the silhouettes of the last fishing boats of the night like black birds against a flaming sky. "Come on. You have to stop thinking about it," she urged him, resting her head against his arm.

"I wasn't. I was thinking about how much I'm going to hate going back to Sydney, actually," he murmured, after a long silence.

"Hmm?"

"I've loved having you here, seeing you every day. Spending hours just... _talking_. I hate talking. But with you I –" he sighed with frustration. "I was thinking about how we could make this work. And the only solution I can think of is that you move in with me, at least some of the time," he explained. Eerin blinked.

"Uh. And that would imply –"

"It doesn't mean we have to be sleeping together, Eerin. But otherwise we just won't see much of each other," he sighed. Eerin curled her fingers in his thoughtfully.

"Well, I've been thinking of that too, actually. But I think my suggestion makes a bit more sense," she replied. "Jan's lease doesn't expire for another month. I was thinking of driving into the city on Monday mornings for Uni, and then back on Thursday so I could still work the night shift, and then Friday through to Sunday I stay at home and go to work every day," she explained. "So I could see you in the afternoons and at night and still work," she added.

"That... makes sense, but I wish it didn't so I wouldn't have to lose you half the week," he admitted.

"Jan will be staying with Chase anyway, so I could just ask to borrow her flat while she's not using it," she shrugged. He looked thoughtful, and nodded.

"Alright, it might work for now, but I want to find a more permanent arrangement," he informed her. She smiled, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "We should probably have The Talk about how this is going to work, you know," he muttered thoughtfully.

"'_The_ Talk'?"

"You know I won't mark you any differently to the rest of my students. It's all done anonymously, anyway, but I can recognise your style," he began.

"I understand that."

"I'm going to try my hardest not to let... our relationship come into things. But my hardest might not be enough," he warned. She nodded.

"Will, I trust you to be fair, and if I think you're not, in either direction, I'll tell you," she assured him. He chuckled.

"I don't doubt that. But... this won't be easy. I'm a bit of a monster when it comes to the classroom, but it gets results. You might have to separate those two worlds," he continued.

"The Professor You is different to the William You in my mind. I don't judge either of you," she replied comfortingly. He smiled, and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Good. We'll need to be very discreet, but as long as we're careful I don't think either of us will have a problem."

Eerin nodded emphatically, but she felt that prickling sensation return as he said those words. She was worried, and she had a feeling that he might be wrong. She tried to push it from her mind – it was just her anxiety at their relationship, or perhaps she was just paranoid about how things were going to turn out. She was being ridiculous.

She hoped.

* * *

"So. Home, tomorrow," Maddy commented dramatically, strolling into her niece's room as she packed for the return journey.

"Yep. Looking forwards to being able to sleep in your own bed again? These springs are killing me," she replied with her usual enthusiasm as she folded a pair of shorts.

"Things are going to be different when you get home, Rin. A holiday can be a bit like a bubble; it protects you from reality and makes everything seem perfect. But when you get home that bubble is gone, and things that used to fit won't make sense anymore," she warned suddenly, seating herself on the edge of the bed. Eerin slowed her packing, and the flicker of her eyes told her Aunt she had taken in those words, but she did not respond. "He loves you. But that's not always enough, not out in the real world."

"I understand," Eerin said quietly, dropping a shirt into her open suitcase, her hands almost trembling. "Everything is different now. But I can't think about that just yet," she murmured.

"Well you're going to have to. You're going to have to make decisions, Rin, about who you tell and how you live now. It's not going to be easy," she cautioned, her wide blue eyes open with honesty and wariness.

"Why are you so afraid for me? I'm falling in love with him, Maddy, I really am," she objected.

"But that's not always a good thing, chook," she sighed, with a small, bitter smile. "I was like you too, once. Not as skinny and a bit taller, and let's face it, you're a bit more of a looker than I was, but I was naïve and falling in love too. I'm not saying Darcy's a bad man, I'm just worried. He's your _teacher_," she explained tentatively. "So perhaps it might be a good idea for you two to... separate for a little while. Just back away a bit, and see how things work," she suggested.

"He loves me, and I'm beginning to love him. I want to be with him, Maddy – and you don't seem to understand that what happened to you isn't going to happen to me," she began, struggling with words to encapsulate her feelings. "There would be no point in it us separating; we'd only be miserable and I'll go back to being too terrified to care for anyone ever again," she insisted emphatically, almost trembling with emotion. "So there's to be no more talk of us separating. I don't want to discuss that again," she said firmly.

Maddy gave a sigh that spoke of exhaustion and pity.

"Alright, chook. I'm going to go get started on dinner. Our last together, you know," she smiled quietly, standing up and crossing the room. Eerin immediately felt guilt flood her when she left. But Maddy had to understand that she knew what she was doing – that she had Darcy there to keep her safe and grounded, and she trusted him to do that.

Their last dinner together, which was supposed to be a celebration of the wonderful week they had on the beach, was spoilt with Eerin's bitterness. She couldn't even really enjoy the ultrasound photos Jan and Chase had gotten back from the doctor in town, her mind was so clouded.

"Are you alright?" Darcy asked quietly as Tom began asking loud questions about why Janni had a funny alien-looking 'thing' in her tummy.

"Yeah. Fine," she lied with a strained smile. He looked concerned, and it was clear he didn't believe her, but he nodded, and sipped his wine in silence.

He got his chance to ask again a little later that night, when Jan and Chase were helping Maddy with the washing up and Tom was watching Top Gear with Ana.

"You're not fine, so don't even bother," he interrupted, when she tried to respond to his repeated question. She rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's go for a walk, and you can give me a real answer," he decided. Eerin sighed, and then nodded, ducking back into the house to grab a cardigan. She reappeared a moment later and then the two carefully made their way down the stone steps to the slither of shore not covered with foamy white waves.

"Maddy keeps on trying to warn me, and I was a bit short with her today. I feel bad but I just –" she gave a frustrated growl. "I don't even know! I'm all messed up. I _should_ apologise, I _should_ tell her that I'm sorry for getting angry when she was trying to help, but she just won't accept that she doesn't have to be so worried about this!" she explained with growing agitation.

"Ah. And it would be insensitive if I asked whether or not this bout of anguish is corresponding with a particular time of the month for you, wouldn't it," he stated, trying not to look too amused at her frustration. She scowled.

"Shut up."

"I'm right, though."

"Shut up. Seriously."

"I thought so, when you ate ice-cream and jam on crumpets for breakfast yesterday morning. Ana does the same thing, but with chocolate. When means I actually look forward to her time of the month, because we both tend to indulge ourselves," he commented with a laugh.

"Normally it's Max Brenner," she admitted.

"And the tea thing. You normally drink a few cups a day, but since... Monday evening, I think, you haven't drunk any, and I know caffeine gives Ana cramps," he added thoughtfully. "I already put a notification on my iPhone, so as long as you're fairly regular with this I should be able to avoid serious injury from a hormonal woman in the future," he teased.

"Seriously, bite me. You're mean," she scowled, her face flushing red. He chuckled.

"You really mustn't be embarrassed. I _have_ raised a teenage girl, you know. Most of it I had to tell her myself," he assured her.

"I picked my knowledge up off the streets. Mum never said a word to me about it," she replied thoughtfully.

"Well, after having lived with a menstruating teenager for the past six years, I can safely say I'm quite knowledgeable on the subject," he reassured her with a snigger.

"But that doesn't matter. What matters is that Maddy doesn't trust that I know what I'm doing," she insisted.

"It's possible that she's just worried about you. If Ana were involved with one of her Professors, who also happened to be fourteen years older than her, I would be worried too," he rationalised. She gave a petulant huff, and glared at a crab scuttling across the sand.

"That's not the point."

"Eerin, now you're just being stubborn. Your Aunt loves you, and she wants what's best for you. I'm sure she trusts you, but she can't help but be concerned," he replied sternly. She scowled, and then sighed.

"I know. I'm just... bleugh. Hormonal. And I want tea."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now come on, tide is rising," he instructed, linking hands and leading her up the beach.

* * *

"So you promise you'll call me?" Ana begged, clutching onto her new friend for dear life. Eerin laughed, and nodded.

"Of course. And I'll email you all the time. I'll keep an eye on your brother for you, too," she assured her after another tight hug.

"I wish I didn't have to go back to England," she sulked. Darcy smiled, and stroked back his sister's dark hair.

"You'll be back soon, cricket. Now come along, we need to get to the airport before the plane leaves without you," he instructed. With one last teary goodbye, and a round of kisses for Maddy, Tom, Jan and Chase, Ana climbed into the passenger's seat of Darcy's car. They waited until Chase and Jan were back in the house before saying their own goodbyes.

"Drive safe, and I'll see you soon, okay?" Eerin murmured into his neck, after he enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"Saturday afternoon. Don't forget," he instructed. She smiled, and then nodded. After one languorously slow kiss that seemed to both never end and never be long enough, they broke apart. "I love you," he said quietly, pressing one last kiss to the end of her nose, and climbing into the car, bringing the engine to life. She waved as they drove away into the distance.

"Will you miss him?" Maddy questioned softly, wrapping a comforting arm around her niece's shoulders.

"It's only three days... but I'll miss him terribly," she murmured as the car disappeared down a turn in the road. She sighed. "I'm sorry I was angry with you last night. I know you're trying to help me, but... I need you to trust me with this," she said finally. Maddy chuckled.

"Well, this is clearly not the Eerin Beaumont I know, apologising when she's still even a bit right," she commented in surprise. Eerin shrugged. It was true. Normally her pride was too much to let her apologise for anything, unless she _knew_ she was wrong.

"I guess I was being a bit ridiculous. But I do feel _so_ strongly for him, Maddy. The 'L' word is on the tip of my tongue but... I don't know. Maybe three days apart will change that too," she smiled.

"Mummy, are we going to go now?" Tom questioned, tugging on his mother's cardigan.

"Of course, bub. Have you packed everything?" she questioned her son, who nodded emphatically. "Alright, do one last run around the house to make sure we haven't forgotten anything, and then we'll hop in the car and go home," she smiled, ruffling his light hair affectionately. He immediately rushed into the house on a mission, and Maddy turned back to her niece. "I've said it before and all I can do is say it again, Rin," she sighed.

"Be careful. I know," she smiled softly. Maddy nodded.

"Come on then, we'd best get going unless we want to catch the traffic," she decided, leading her niece back into the house without another word on the topic.

**A/N: Sorry, another short one! But, as per x19x's request, I have updated before 5:45 my time so she can read this chapter when she wakes up :D But don't worry, my lovelies, next chapter is twice as long as my normal chappies! Yaaaay!**


	25. Of Dinner and Deals

"_And here we are rebuilding roads, right by roosting towns,_

_It's just like the love; the one that's never been enough_

_So I'm counting on your fingers,_

_Cause you've reattached the twitch,_"

-Bon Iver, 'Brackett, WI'

Three days did _not_ pass pleasantly to Eerin, upon returning home. She was at least able to keep herself busy by working from opening until closing at the spa, but when she came home in the evenings, things were in an uproar.

Fiona was so ecstatic to finally have a daughter pregnant and engaged that it was now something that consumed her entire being. She couldn't understand why Jan, her most precious angel of a child, suddenly stopped seeing Chase, but that refrain now meant nothing to her, and things were a frenzy of wedding plans, baby plans, real estate plans, it was as if every aspect of Jan's life was being planned out for her from the study of that federation house in Merryton Downs.

The wedding was to be in only a month, which put great pressure on Fiona to do the organising (although no one particularly wanted her to have that job), only made all the more difficult when Carol Bingley decided to disregard all her decisions and take over the reins herself.

"That woman is a horrible _cow_," Fiona growled into her bridal magazines after getting off the phone with the 'cow' herself. "She wants _tulips_. At a wedding. Goodbye, lilies, so long, roses, because the bitch wants _tulips_!" she cried dramatically, tossing a glossy rag across the bench and then storming into her aromatherapy room.

"What's up Mum's bum?" Leena questioned with a frown as she trotted into the kitchen.

"Carol Bingley," was all Eerin needed to reply for her sister's eyes to widen in realisation.

"Oh. That whore. Well, at least she's got style, for a bitch," she scoffed, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and then depositing herself on the lounge, turning the volume of the telly up to inhuman levels. Eerin rolled her eyes but made no other comment as she finished her tea and put the cup in the dishwasher before returning to her room.

She was thrilled to finally be getting out of the Shire and back into Sydney to see Darcy. They had agreed to meet at his place for dinner and perhaps a movie later on, and she had found herself missing him more than she could imagine. She just wanted to leave Merryton and stay with him forever.

They had spoken over the phone once or twice, but it just wasn't the same. She found herself craving his presence as she climbed into her car and sped off into the night. She made it into the city in good time, only three quarters of an hour and she was pulling into the resident's car park of Jan's building, and let herself in with her key. She glanced around and smiled. Most of Jan's things were now at Chase's place while they searched for a new home to raise their family. She had the place to herself until Thursday, when she needed to go back to Merryton for work.

Glancing at the clock, she surmised that she had fifteen minutes before she needed to leave to meet Darcy at his flat. She rifled through the clothes she had brought and some Jan had left before deciding on her waist high jeans and her pale pink chemise blouse. She hadn't worn it for about two months, not since the 'Collins' incident, but she remembered Chan telling her she looked good in it, and decided to go for it. She went through several cardigans and jackets before finally settling on a chunky grey knit, and wound the necklace he had given her once or twice around her neck so it fell in layers across the blouse. She inspected herself in the mirror with intense scrutiny. She wished she were prettier, but it would have to do. It was only a casual dinner at his place, anyway.

She felt a slight tingle when she considered that thought. He'd said 'dinner, or something', and the hints of a smile said he would prefer the 'or something'. That had been torturing her for the past three days. She simply didn't know if she was ready to sleep with him yet. All she could do was wait, and see how she felt if the situation came up.

She tried to push those distracting thoughts from her head as she put on a bit of makeup and tried to do something with her hair, only to realise it was fruitless. Glancing at the clock once more, she cursed and grabbed her bag and keys, leaving the flat in haste.

She drove slowly to the address, written on a post-it she'd stuck to her radio. She knew the area, but wasn't sure about the building until she slowed to a stop outside the number on the post-it. It wasn't what she expected.

It was one of the older buildings of Sydney, but she knew for a fact that it was ridiculously expensive, which _was_ what she had imagined. For some reason she had pictures something straight-edged and very modern, but that wasn't Darcy's style at all, when she thought about it.

She parked and crossed the road to the door, and pressed down on the intercom for his flat. She heard a low buzz and then a familiar 'yes?'

"Hey, it's me. Can I come up?" she replied, feeling her heart beat faster with the thought of seeing him.

"Of course. Come in, please, love," he answered from the tinny little speaker. The door gave a click and she was able to enter. It was a lovely building, with beautiful antique interiors. It reminded her of a fancy hotel her mother used to drag her daughters to in Katoomba. She tried to keep calm as she slipped into the lift.

She'd missed him. It had only been three days but she had missed him terribly, and the thought of seeing him again was just... wonderful. So she was almost bouncing up and down with energy as she watched the little dial at the top of the door pass numbers until it reached the top. The doors slid open to reveal a small room with a heavy mahogany door only a metre or so before her. She took a deep breath and knocked.

It opened almost immediately (had he been standing behind it, waiting to greet her?) to reveal William Darcy in the flesh, but she hadn't really time to contemplate that before he stepped forwards and pulled her into his arms for a rather forceful kiss.

"Hi," she managed to get out when he took a breath. He grinned against her mouth.

"Hi," he returned, an arm snaking around her waist and pulling her into the flat. He closed the door with his foot, and before she knew what was happening she had her back pressed against it, his hands on her hips.

"I take it you missed me too?" she questioned breathlessly, as he pulled her up into his arms to allow him to kiss her with better ease.

"Mm," he muttered against her neck. She delighted in being able to reduce him to monosyllables; it gave her a sense of power. But then again, when he kissed the base of her throat like that – well, she was glad he was holding her up, because she was quite sure she would have melted into the floor if it weren't for him.

Too quickly for her liking he slowly released her, and her feet found the floor. She suddenly realised how ridiculously tall her was – after all, she _was_ short, but the top of her head didn't even reach his shoulders. She couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Something funny, my dear?" Darcy questioned with a smile, winding his hands tightly around her waist.

"Nothing. It's just – I might need to invest in a pair of heels," she managed to get out, biting her lip to fight laughter. He chuckled, and then lowered his head to press a slower kiss against her lips.

"Possibly. How are you?" he greeted, easing her into his flat with his arms still on her waist.

"Hmm. Good, now I get to see you," she replied with a smile, before she glanced around the room. "Wow. This is – _nice_," she commented, taking in her surroundings.

It was more than nice, really. It was _incredible_. The floor was a highly polished mahogany, with high ceilings, the walls papered with a lovely chocolate brown and teal wallpaper which was dark, but not overpowering, and went well with the burgundy curtains trimmed with gold that covered several large windows around the room. It was almost like a studio flat – quite open, but there was so much there she hardly noticed the openness. The room was filled with several ornate chaises, divans and settees, a few small coffee tables, a fireplace, books _everywhere_, on shelves, in cabinets, piled on the floor, in a large bookcase that took up a whole wall; and there were almost as many historical artefacts as there were novels.

She spied a large Buddha in one corner, a glorious Tiki mask hanging on a well, a cabinet with Samurai swords and a beautiful kimono, and had she take to peruse the cabinets she was sure she would find even more interesting things. Further on there was a large oak dining table that looked brand new – she could see a part of the kitchen from where she stood, but for the most part, it seemed a very ornate sort of room where one would expect to host a high tea or to entertain nineteenth century dinner guests. And it was _terribly_ masculine, in that very Victorian manner.

"I thought you didn't play," she commented, noting a beauty baby grand piano by one of the windows.

"I don't. All this furniture came with the flat, it's just there for decoration, really," he shrugged.

"Have you ever turned the telly on?" she questioned, glancing to the gleaming widescreen mounted on the wall.

"Richard did, quite a few times. But I don't really watch television," he replied, leading her through to the settee.

"I can just see Sherlock Holmes or Dorian Grey living here. It's gorgeous," she sighed, sitting down, her eyes still wide as she looked around.

"Well, I'm glad you like it. It cost a fortune, but all things considered, I think I got a reasonable deal," he said simply, taking a seat beside her.

"So is it just this room? Is there more?"

"If you go through there you get to a bathroom, a guest room and my study, and then the other is my bedroom and ensuite," he informed her, pointing down past the kitchen.

"_Two _bathrooms? That's pretty cool, you know, for a one-person flat," she commented appreciatively. He chuckled.

"Yes, but as I live alone I don't see the need for it," he countered. Eerin lifted her legs up onto the settee and folded them beneath her, giving her a few inches more height that seemed to make things a bit more even. Darcy chuckled at this, and leant forwards for another soft kiss.

It was interrupted rather suddenly, however, by Eerin's squeal as something fluffy jumped onto her lap.

"Fucking _hell_!" she cried, pulling away as quickly as she could. The grey tortoiseshell cat hissed at her sudden movements, and then with an impetuous turn of its head, jumped into Darcy's lap.

"It's just Boots, you've scared her now!" he laughed, making no attempts to conceal his humour. Eerin scowled as she eased back onto the settee.

"That _thing_ tried to kill me," she muttered angrily.

"She just wanted to say hello," he assured her, but his words were still choked with laughter.

"She's evil."

"She's Boots, and she won't hurt you," he replied, placing the purring cat in her lap. Boots' big green eyes blinked slowly, almost in accusation, before Eerin placed a tentative hand on her head.

"You know I hate cats, right?"

"Uh, no. I didn't," he frowned. "Will it be a problem?" he questioned unsurely.

"For me, or for her?" she enquired, attempted to push the creature off her lap as best she could.

"She's harmless. And she mostly keeps herself to herself, I rather doubt she'd want to be your friend after _this_ little incident," he answered with a slight snigger.

"I'll try to get along with her, but if she does _this_ on a regular basis, we have a problem," she said firmly, glaring as Boots settled comfortably in her lap.

"Boots, shoo, go on," he commanded the feline, lifting it from the settee and placing her on the ground. Boots gave Eerin one last glare before turning heel and stalking off, her tail held high in the air. "Well. That was fun," he chuckled. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"Sure. Fun. I hate cats," she muttered with a slight frown.

"Good to know. Are you particularly hungry?" he questioned curiously, glancing to the kitchen. She had a suspicion he was hoping she would say 'no' so they could continue their previous activities. But Eerin didn't want that – she needed time. She wanted to talk rationally.

"A bit, yeah. So what's the plan for food, considering you can't cook?" she questioned with a raised brow. He gave a thoughtful sigh.

"Well, we can't go out for dinner, it's too risky," he began contemplatively. "Either we could get take-away or delivery, or we could cook something ourselves, and that would most likely be _you_ cooking, because I'm really quite inept at anything fancier than a steak sandwich. Which I have a suspicion you won't be interested in," he continued with a small chuckle. She rolled her eyes.

"We'll see what food you have before we make those decisions," she decided, standing up and crossing the room to the kitchen. She didn't hear Darcy stand up until she was out of sight – which gave her the impression he was looking at her bum. Which gave her a small thrill of power.

"I have bread, uhh... a few salad-related things, tomatoes and such, plenty of food that only involves two minutes of preparation," he offered, gesturing around the kitchen. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"Well, that means – aha, you're wonderful," she said with delight, pulling out some Turkish bread from the bread box by the microwave. "So you said tomatoes? Would you mind grabbing me whatever you've got?" she requested, rifling through drawers and cupboards in search of a frying pan.

Darcy pulled about four or five tomatoes out of the fridge, before she bustled past him in search of food stuffs. She gave a triumphant cry when she found a small jar of pesto that had obviously never been touched, and a bottle of olive oil.

"This is beginning to look relatively meal-ish," she informed him, inspecting the ingredients. Turkish bread, tomatoes and pesto. "I can do this, why don't you sit there and look pretty?" she suggested with an impish grin. He chuckled and pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge.

"I might cook myself a steak, if you don't mind. Rabbit food isn't going to be enough to satiate me, I'm afraid," he replied, pouring her a glass of fruity burgundy. She bit her lip against a smile at the double entendre of his words before taking a sip.

"Go ahead, this should only take me a few minutes," she offered, searching around for the proper utensils.

She felt... warm and comforted to be around him. He put a CD on – not Meat Loaf, but rather some very lovely strings, and they were able to settle into peaceful conversation. It was soothing, just what she needed after three days home with her stressful family.

"So Leena is the youngest – she's the one prone to getting what she wants?" he questioned a little later, after listening with interest to one of her rants.

"That's a bit of an understatement. She _always_ gets what she wants; Mum and Dad don't know what else to do with her. She's only fifteen, but I swear to God, she's a trial and a half," she replied with a huff of indignation. "She's pretty and outgoing, so she's worshiped at school and Mum dotes on her too much. She's always running around with boyfriends and getting herself into strife," she added.

"It seems I might be able to give your parents one or two tips. If the word 'no' isn't the first and foremost in your vocabulary then you're going to have some serious problems," he replied, turning his steak over in the pan and taking a mouthful of wine. "And Kylie – is she the emotional one or the sheep?" he curiously questioned.

"The sheep. But they both are, really. Kylie is sweet, but if I want to be honest she's not that clever, and she lets Leena lead her astray," she explained. "And then there's Maiya – she hates everyone and everything at the moment, but then again, she's hardly ever at home and even then she's so hostile you can't get a word of sense out of her. I really don't know that much about her anymore," she sighed, leaning against the counter as she waited for the foccacia to finish cooking. "We used to be close when I was about fourteen or fifteen, but she's always been so oversensitive, and as she got older she just got more and more introverted and self-obsessed. Now we hardly ever talk, not like we used to," she shrugged thoughtfully.

"I thought you were closest with Jannali," he commented with surprise. Eerin laughed.

"Sort of. Jan grew up being told she was the prettiest and the smartest, but she was always incredibly insecure. She went off the rails when she was about seventeen, left home for a few days, started hanging out with the wrong crowds – but when she came back she slowly turned into the beautiful, wonderfully sweet girl she is now," she explained with another mouthful of wine.

"Jannali isn't the smartest. Or the prettiest," he objected, leaning over and pressing a lazy kiss to her lips. She smiled against his mouth.

"Smooth," she laughed. He shrugged, and grinned.

"I have my moments."

"They all have their good qualities, though, and I love them all to death. I sound terrible, but they're my family, you know? I guess that's just how we fit together as a family," she sighed with a happy smile.

"Ana and I are both introverted. That's how _we_ fit," he returned.

"She was so sweet. I'm glad I got to meet her," she said, pulling the foccacia out of the oven with careful precision.

"She couldn't stop raving about how wonderful you were on the trip to the airport, you know," he informed her, gently placing his hand on her lower back as a gesture of familiarity that sent a thrill through both of them. "I was thinking of going back to England in the semester break. It'd be nice if you could come, you two would be able to spend some more time together," he suggested, almost sheepishly. Eerin gently bit her lip and tried not to blush.

"That'd be nice," she replied, fighting a grin. Darcy, however, had no qualms with smiling like a schoolboy and then leant forwards to capture her lips. His hands gently found their way to sit on her waist, and then slid down to her hips, pulling her forwards as he deepened the kiss.

"Hmm. I love you," he said softly against her mouth, before parting her lips and grazing his teeth lightly against them, leaving her no opportunity to respond with anything audible.

Because she _did_ love him, or at least she was close to it, although the rational part of her mind was screaming that it was too soon, that it wasn't right she should love her _teacher_, that there were too many obstacles to separate them – but she loved the gentle and tentative way he looped his fingers beneath her belt buckle to pull her closer, she loved the way his beard tickled her chin and the way he always seemed to be _laughing_ when he was with her, but never _at_ her, it was as if the whole world was something separate and amusing and distant to his kitchen where he was kissing her so soundly.

There was something both unsure and also something... _purposeful_ to the way he kissed her, as if he thought her so fragile his lips could bruise her, but at the same time, he knew precisely what he was doing. And that combination was absolutely intoxicating, particularly partnered with the sensation of his fingers slipping slightly beneath her blouse to press against the smooth skin above her jeans. She loved all those things – but did she love _him_?

"I think your steak is burning," she reminded him with a grin, when she could remember coherent words. He gave a breathy sort of laugh and moved away, immediately turning off the stove. She bit her lip against a smile as she took out her contribution to the meal – the Turkish bread spread with olive oil and pesto, with sliced tomatoes drizzled in more oil on the top, grilled for a few minutes and sprinkled with cheese and some black olives she had found in the fridge.

"You shouldn't distract me then," he teased, glancing to her with a small, barely concealed smirk.

"I think I recall someone _else_ instigating the distracting, but I'll let you off on that one," she laughed, slipping two pieces of foccacia on each plate, the second of which had Darcy's steak added to it. Before she could carry the plates over to wherever they would eat dinner, he caught her with one purposeful hand on her hip, and then bent his head to softly kiss her, his lips tracing hers with the lightest of touches.

"Right then. I suppose the settee is as good a place as any," he decided with a decidedly cheeky grin, leading the breathless Eerin out of the kitchen. She rolled her eyes, but was unable to conceal a grin at his sudden change in behaviour. He was just... so surprising, but so thrilling at the same time.

Despite the lack of ingredients, dinner was surprisingly tasty, and went well with the wine. And, to Darcy's credit, he had plenty of delicious deserts for them to indulge in – including a rich chocolate ice cream that could very well have been sent by the gods.

"I probably should have thought ahead with this whole 'dinner, or something' concept. I was perhaps too eager to see you again to really consider it in great detail," he apologised in a delightfully sheepish way that made her insides squirm. They had finished dinner and gorged themselves on ice cream, so had now settled into a comfortable horizontal position on the settee, with his arm wound loosely around her waist.

"Hey, we're creative people. But next time, I'm stopping at the shops first," she smiled against the side of his chest. She felt a buzzing sort of warm glow fill her as he softly ran strands of her short hair through his slender fingers; it was that sort of feeling of everything being _right_.

"Are you nervous about Monday?" he questioned curiously. She shrugged, and shifted her arm so it stretched across his stomach, her back pressed against the back of the settee.

"A little. It'll be tricky to sit in class for an hour, watching you teach when all I'll want to do is walk up and kiss you," she replied with a small laugh. He rolled his eyes.

"All I can ask is that you _please_, for the sake of my sanity, don't wear anything even remotely sexy. I won't be able to form coherent words with you in that lecture theatre," he requested, only half teasingly.

"Define sexy?"

"You do realise you're currently wearing _that blouse_ and _those jeans_, two items which have been haunting my dreams for months, so I'd say anything slightly resembling your current outfit," he replied, his brows disappearing in his fringe as he glanced up and down her attire.

"'_That_' blouse?" she questioned with confusion, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Hmm. The fact that I know you don't wear anything beneath it is... well, let's just say – distracting," he said, somewhat sheepishly. She laughed into his chest.

"And the jeans?"

"Yes. Uh, they're rather tight," he murmured, blushing slightly. She gave a bit of a confident grin at that. "You planned this, you little minx," he chuckled suddenly, snaking his hand down to the small of her back. She laughed.

"I honestly didn't, but I know Car thinks this is a 'sexy' blouse," she defended, her eyes twinkling with amusement. He bit back a grin.

"I see, you're trying to get me drunk and seduce me."

"That's one of my master plans, yes. How am I doing so far?" she questioned innocently. His eyes flashed darkly with something other than amusement.

"I would say... it's been working since I first met you," he replied, leaning forward to catch her lips. She grinned against his mouth, but her triumph was short lived when he shifted her to lie atop his chest, his hands sliding down from her waist to her hips before continuing on to rest on the side of her thighs while he kissed her. Her hands didn't seem content and they ran through his dark hair, over his neck, shoulders, down across his chest and to his waist. She stifled a giggle against his mouth.

His brow rose with expert precision at her amusement.

"Sorry. It's just – you're so different. You're all... well, your chest goes straight down to your hips. You don't have a waist," she explained, with a small laugh. He rolled his dark eyes.

"Men are like that, my dear. Now can I please kiss you without you laughing?"

She gave another small giggle before nodding, but her laughter was smothered by his lips.

She didn't know how long they lay on that couch together, tentative hands exploring curves, lines and limbs. Their movements alternated between being frantic, as if they couldn't get enough of each other, to slow, gentle and purposeful. It seemed like an eternity, but she knew it would never be enough time.

He pulled away after a while, his breath ragged against hers. Somehow they had shifted, so his body was half atop hers, his weight strangely thrilling. He moved to allow her to slide out from beneath him, but she wanted nothing more than to just lie there for the rest of her days, warm and safe in his embrace.

"I wanted to tell you how much I missed you earlier. I guess I got a little sidetracked," he chuckled softly, stroking the side of her cheek with his thumb, and affectionate, almost sheepish smile on his lips.

"Well I like hearing that, so I guess it's good we came up for air," she teased.

His smile turned into a grin and his hand slid to rest on the side of her shoulder. She sighed; it was such a comforting sensation when he adjusted his position so he could lie back with her against his side, one arm wrapped protectively around her waist. She wriggled comfortably to find the perfect place to lie. She was struck with the perfect way that their bodies fit together – it send a small thrill through her, as if some divine creator had decided it was to be that way.

"I should probably be getting back, you know," she said thoughtfully, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner after they had lain there for a while. He groaned into her shoulder.

"No. Don't leave, please," he begged, tightening his hold on her. She laughed.

"I _have_ to leave, it's getting really late," she reminded him.

"Stay the night. Stay with me."

Eerin sighed.

"Will, it's too soon," she whispered against his temple.

"Just trust me, Eerin. We can just sleep, really," he pleaded softly.

"I – I just need a little more time, _please_. Don't – don't push me, William, I want to be able to make this decision myself," she insisted. He gave a long, slow sigh, and loosened his hold.

"I'm sorry. I just – I find you very desirable, you know. It's hard for me," he apologised with a frown. "I want to ask you to stay here tonight, just so I can hold you, but I don't trust myself. Eerin, I don't trust myself at all when you're near me. Perhaps it's best we don't meet anywhere with beds," he sighed.

"Well... I wouldn't mind staying here, you know, as long as you didn't try anything," she warned. He chuckled, and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"I want that very much, but I think I – I lack the necessary control," he explained rather tentatively. She smiled at his concern.

"William, I'm not going to let you get frisky on me. I'll make sure you keep it in your trousers," she laughed. He rolled his emerald eyes, fingers lightly tracing the patterns in her thin blouse.

"How long before you think you –"

"Soon, Will. I know I said 'soon' last week when we were at the beach, but... we've really only been 'together' for two weeks, not even that long. I just want to be sure of how I feel first," she assured him, capturing his lips for a soft kiss. They parted after a moment, his hands splayed across her back and gently pulling her close to him.

"I suppose I'll just have to be patient," he decided with a wry grin. "So – are you willing to stay tonight, as long as I 'keep it in my trousers'?" he questioned hopefully, after another short kiss.

"As long as you have a spare toothbrush and something for me to wear to bed I'm game," she shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips.

"Hmm, and what if, in the assistance of the progression of this relationship, I _didn't_ have anything for you to wear?" he challenged with a cocked brow.

"Then it's home for me, I'm afraid," she sighed.

"I should have something, given your propensity to wear men's clothing," he acquiesced finally, looking somewhat put out. She laughed.

"Good to know. Would you mind showing me what you've got?"

"Certainly, just as long as you leave _me_ something to wear," he chuckled, sitting up. He linked his hand with hers and led her through the flat to his bedroom. She looked around appreciatively.

"This is pretty damn cool, you know," she commented after a low whistle. It was the same dark wallpaper that somehow managed not to look overbearing, with the same beautiful burgundy and gold curtains over a large window. It wasn't as big as she had expected, but it seemed to serve its purpose. There was a rather large bed, with a very elaborate head and matching bedside tables, one wall was completely overtaken with dark mahogany doors that apparently opened up into his wardrobe, and in the corner she could spy a door that probably led to his bathroom.

"It works for me."

"It's very... masculine, you know," she said thoughtfully, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Darcy laughed.

"Uh, I _am_ a man, you know," he reminded her. She rolled her dark eyes.

"We're all aware. I just mean that it's not the kind of room where you'd expect to find a girl," she explained with a shrug. He stood back from his task of searching through his wardrobe for some suitable attire for her, and leant against the doors with arms crossed against his chest.

"You know, it's a very interesting picture, with this dark, masculine room, and this tiny little feminine thing sitting curled up on my bed," he commented with a wry grin. "I quite like it. I forgot what it was like to have a woman around."

"Well, I've never had a man around, so this'll be interesting for me," she replied decidedly. He gave another smile as he tossed her a shirt. "Are you going to let me get changed, or just watch?" she challenged. He shrugged.

"I wouldn't mind watching."

"Out."

Darcy chuckled as he left the bedroom. She grinned to herself as she quickly changed. The baggy grey shirt fell down somewhere to her thighs, but she still felt... nervous. She suddenly wished she'd put on some better undies – the striped pink boylegs with little green dinosaurs weren't exactly romantic.

Pushing anxiety from her mind, she folded her jeans and blouse and set them on the backless chaise at the end of the bed, and called him back into the room.

"The shirt suits you," he smiled, easing her concerns. He gave a comforting smile and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "The bathroom is through there, there should be another toothbrush under the sink, and some soap if you'd like to wash your face or anything," he informed her, pointing to the door.

She slipped into the bathroom, and on her return, discovered him changed into a pair of loose fitting pyjama pants and a rather tight shirt that outlined quite nicely the curves and lines of his beautiful body. He smirked as he passed her on his way to brush his teeth, noting how she swallowed rather obviously upon seeing him. Her face flushing, she pulled down the bed sheets and stared at it with a frown.

"Something wrong?"

"Which side do you sleep on?" she questioned, turning to him with a thoughtful expression.

"Oh. I don't really mind, you can pick whichever you want," he offered with a smile. She thoughtfully chewed her bottom lip.

"I don't have sides. I've never slept in the same bed as anyone before. I think _you_ have to make that decision," she replied. He chuckled, and slid into bed on the right side.

"The right side is traditionally associated with masculinity, as the right hand was the hand in which one would hold their sword, whereas the left is symbolic of femininity, being weaker. So I'll take this side as a symbol of protectiveness," he decided promptly.

"Idiot face."

He laughed as she climbed into the bed, and pulled the sheets and quilt up to her chin.

"I won't pounce on you. You don't have to protect yourself."

"I don't really know what the protocol is," she admitted. He chuckled, and slid down so he was eyelevel with her. He gently eased the blankets out of her iron grip, and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her back gently to his chest.

"When in doubt, spoon. Simple solution," he decided, his voice low against her ear. She smiled and snuggled comfortably into him. "This is starting to feel like a bad idea," he sighed, his voice barely a murmur against her dark hair. His hand moved slowly down her arm, making the pale hairs stick on end, before his palm rested on the curve of her hip beneath the blankets.

"Sleep now, Will. No touching," she chastised, but she couldn't help but give a small smile. His touch, however frightening, still filled her with a sense of wonderful, warm, golden excitement that sent thrills through her entire body.

"Mm. Yes. Sleep," he muttered, pressing his lips into the back of her neck as his hand continued to stray over her body. As he began to trace light patterns over her ribs, he was making it very clear that sleep was one of the last things on his mind.

"You don't seem very tired," she commented dryly. He sniggered into the back of her neck.

"No. Certainly not," he replied, pushing the blankets down slightly to slide his hand beneath the sheets and rest on her hip once more, his thumb rubbing small circles over the shirt she had borrowed and making it very difficult for her to concentrate on teasing him. "God, why didn't I find you some pants, woman?" he sighed, when she turned into him and her bare legs entwined with his.

"Because I look better without them," she sniggered, tilting her head upwards to capture his lips in a kiss. His hands sliding over her bare thighs and around her knees was his wordless agreement for that statement. She laughed against his mouth when his hand moved upwards to toy with the line of her dinosaur knickers, and pushed him away. He slid his hand around to the small of her back, pushing the shirt up with it, and pulling her closer to his form.

She gave another laugh and pushed his hand away when it continued to stray to places where it really shouldn't for so new a relationship, but she did not stop kissing him, or move away his hand that sat on her hip and traced small circles over her skin. She felt entirely comfortable kissing him in such a manner, or having his hands on her body, so long as he didn't push the limits of her sense of security. He let out a frustrated growl when she moved his hand away from her chest for the third time.

"This really isn't fair," he muttered bitterly, sliding away, ending all physical contact. She looked at him, her eyes still hazy from their embrace. "You can't let me kiss you like that, touch you like that, if you're just going to push me away in a moment!" he objected, sitting up and resting his head in his hands, trying to control his breathing. She sat up with a slight frown.

"I'm... sorry?" she replied, but she was still confused. Was he angry that she let him kiss and touch her, or that she didn't let him take it further?

"Eerin, you can't toy with me like that. You mustn't push me, it would be like... offering Boots a sardine and hitting her when she tries to take it," he explained with great frustration.

"So... by kissing you, I'm offering you a sardine?" she questioned with a raised brow and a small smirk. He groaned in irritation.

"Either you let me touch you, you let me kiss you and hold you and love you, or you stop me before I... before I –"

"I'm not completely clueless when it comes to blokes, you know. I know what happens," she retorted with a teasing smile. He gave another angry growl and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Well, it's not fair. If you don't want to more quicker, then don't... don't _tempt_ me," he scowled, shuffling further away from her. She lowered her eyes in embarrassment. She hadn't realised that just by kissing him she could cause such an effect on a man who normally seemed so in control.

"It's not that I don't want to," she muttered softly. He sighed, and turned his head slightly, to regard her behind his dark fringe.

"Do you love me?" he asked her plainly. She shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Do I need to?" she mumbled. He chuckled.

"No, not especially. Not at this stage," he conceded. "But I know that this means a lot to you," he added, when she didn't respond, choosing instead to run her slender finger along the brocade pattern of the quilt cover.

"What do you mean?" she demanded, with slight sharpness. He pulled his knees up and folded his arms atop them, resting his chin on his palm as he watched her. He seemed wonderfully at ease, and yet incredibly frustrated at the same time.

"I told you before. I've slept with women I didn't love; I've slept with women I barely knew. I've slept with women I hated," he shrugged, with a small chuckle. "It's not that sex means so little to me. I just... really like it," he explained slowly, before wincing at his own words when she stifled a giggle. "Oh, that came out all wrong," he groaned, leaning against the bed head and trying to bite back laughter.

"Well, that's... good to know," she smiled, sitting up and folding her legs beneath her body. She could tell they weren't going to get some sleep any time soon.

"I _mean_..." he sighed, beginning again, this time measuring out his words with the upmost care. "I see it as being one of two things, sex, which is what happens between two people who aren't in love, and then the alternate love making, which is something entirely different," he explained, regarding her once more with a soft smile that made her blush with her uncomfortableness.

"So... what are you saying?" she questioned, wrinkling her brow slightly in confusion. He leant forwards, and slid his arm behind her back, one palm resting gently on her shoulder blade.

"That I want to make love to you... but I would by no means object to having sex with you," he said simply, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She shivered with the intensity of his words. She swallowed.

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all I get?" he teased, leaning back and removing taking his hand away. She was grateful for it, but at the same time wished he would never let her go. She gave a frustrated huff of confusion and leant forwards, holding her head in her hands and trying to make sense of her thoughts.

"Which one do you want?" she asked finally, not turning to gage his reaction to that question.

"Right now?" he drawled, with a faintly amused tone. "I'd probably have to say the sex."

Eerin gave a strained sort of nod, lifting up her head and turning it to press her lips against his very insistently. Before he could really protest and she could think about her own actions, she found herself sitting on his lap with her arms around his neck, and he returned her kiss with the same fire as his hands found her hips.

"Lord, Eerin, s – slow down," he gasped, pulling his lips away from hers as her hands stilled around his collar. "As glad as I am that you – you happen to be particularly... _lively_, this evening," he began, his voice nothing more than a breathy laugh. "This isn't what either of us want. No build-up, no romance, no _protection_, because unlike Chase, I intend on making an honest woman out of you before we have children, it's just not... _right_, not yet," he explained, lowering his head and trying to control his breathing. "I know what I just said, but I didn't mean it, not like this."

"I only –"

"I know. I understand exactly what you were doing," he assured her, before she could object. She felt ashamed and childish. "But I _can _wait. I'm prepared to wait for as long as you need, because even though I'm happy to sleep with you now, I would be happier if you wanted it too. You just can't tempt me like that, because I don't know how much control I have over myself," he said, stroking back her dark hair. He stared at her in silence for a full minute before speaking once more. "Would I be right in thinking that you... haven't done this before? With a man?" he asked carefully.

Eerin's cheeks flushed bright red.

"Well... not... exactly..." she murmured sheepishly, biting her bottom lip.

"Exactly?"

"Not really. Not... _this_," she admitted, giving a small shrug. She felt even more like the child. "I mean, it was different with Maggie. It was... kind of like rebellion. We weren't thinking about the future or commitment, we kind of... just had fun, I suppose," she mumbled, her face burning with embarrassment.

"You said you wanted more time to think about this decision, and I understand that. It's a big decision," he said softly, meeting her eyes once more. She found only honesty in them. "But until then... there have to be boundaries. Limits. I need to know where I can and can't touch you, what we can and can't do, or I'll go mad; you can't tempt me with what you're not ready to give, Eerin," he warned. She sighed, and nodded. It was odd, that she had to associate a sense of responsibility now to his kisses and touches.

She was flattered. He was asking her to be in control, and in return, all he requested was that she let him know about the barriers that she had to put up. She couldn't help but wonder if he had to do this with his other girlfriends.

And suddenly, that thought stuck in her head.

Other girlfriends.

She knew about Laura, and she didn't like to think that Darcy had loved another before her, even though he assured her that he didn't really love her at all, but she didn't know about any others. There must have been women before her, but how many? Her sexual history was a very, very short list. She suddenly felt intimidated by women she didn't know even existed.

"What's wrong?" he asked carefully, noting her frown.

"How many, William?" she asked abruptly. His brows rose in surprise.

"Uh – you mean –"

"How many women have you slept with?" she demanded, looking at him with her most questioning expression. He looked suddenly rather uncomfortable.

"Well... I don't know an exact _number_," he murmured, frowning in thought. Eerin's heart sunk. Was it so many that he had lost count? "Maybe... twenty? Or... twenty-five? I'm not sure," he admitted, looking rather sheepish as he said the number aloud.

Eerin gave a strained nod, and stared at her knees.

Twenty-five women, and possibly more, if his tone was anything to go by.

The number dwarfed her feeble history. She had never felt more pathetic and insecure in that relationship than she did at that moment. She nodded again, as if to tell herself that she accepted that incredible number, and pulled her knees up beneath her chin, her back against the bed head as she glared down at her toes.

"I know that it... it seems like a great deal, but I'm _thirty-four_, Eerin, almost thirty-five. I'm not a monk, I'm a man," he reminded her, gently reaching to place a hand on her shoulder. She scoffed.

"You're a _man_? If I told you that I had slept with twenty-five men you wouldn't just call me a woman and let that be it," she snapped bitterly. He took his hand away. "Would you rather that I had? Would you be happier if I had twenty-five times the experience I have right now?" she demanded, glaring at him from behind stray locks of her short dark hair.

"No! I love the fact that you're –" he stopped himself with a pained sigh, and rubbed his eyes. "I know. Double standards. I'm a horrible, chauvinistic bastard," he murmured weakly.

"It just pisses me off that it's okay for men. To be sluts," she bitterly spat, once more glaring at her toes.

"Oh, lovely. I'm a slut now," he drawled.

"Well, if I came out with that number, yeah. I'd be called a slut," she threw back.

"I didn't want to lie to you," he protested. "I know that it seems like a lot, but... I tried dating, quite a lot when I was younger. That, along with symbols and iconography, was the one selfish thing I could have for quite some time," he explained, practically pleading to her. "When I was having a drink with women my own age, enjoying their company, and _yes_, sleeping with them, I didn't feel like a single father who didn't get to finish his childhood. I _love_ Ana, but I just wasn't ready to give up my youth completely," he continued insistently. "After Laura, I gave all that up. I said I wasn't going to do it again, I gave in. I realised that I was never going to be young again, all I had left was Ana and my textbooks."

Eerin nodded in understanding. She knew it was petty to get angry, but she couldn't help but feel intimidated by such a number. It was almost unimaginable to her.

"I'm sorry. I'm being a bitch," she sighed, sliding back down to rest her head on the pillow. "I just... kind of wish there wasn't so much of a difference between us sometimes," she confessed weakly. He smiled, and slid down to lie facing her.

"Would you rather that this were a first for me, too?" he drawled teasingly. She shrugged.

"Maybe? It might make me feel a little less... freaked out," she admitted. He chuckled.

"Well, I can assure you, my first time was rather unremarkable. Mostly a lot of fumbling, plenty of apologising," he said with a laugh, wincing at the memory. "Don't worry; I've improved a bit since then. I think," he teased, moving closer and resting his hand on the curve of her waist.

"Ah, you're trying to lower my expectations?" she challenged with a raised brow. He smirked.

"Well... I've never received any complaints. Despite what Richard liked to tell girls I fancied at university," he drawled, rolling his eyes. "The point is that I know what I'm doing. You just have to decide when you want things to get more... serious," he explained simply. She nodded thoughtfully.

"Not tonight. I want... to think about things a little, away from here, with a clear head," she decided after a short pause. He gave her a comforting smile in understanding.

"That makes sense," he agreed. She allowed him to take her into his arms and pull her body closer to his, stifling a yawn as she rested her head against his chest. "So. No more kissing and touching tonight, and I think I might be able to survive," he sighed.

"Thank you. For understanding, for giving me options," she murmured thoughtfully. She realised that he had known all along that she didn't want to take things further that night, but he had been startlingly honest with her about what he wanted, while at the same time comforting her with his promise to wait. He wasn't hiding anything from her, which she appreciated more than she could say.

"Quite alright. Thank you for not forcing me to have a cold shower before you let me touch you again," he quipped. She laughed softly against his chest as she felt him softly stroke her hair. She was going to say goodnight, but before she could even process the idea of words, he had leant over her and turned off the lamp.

She felt his lips against her forehead and his hands on her hair before she fell into one of the best sleeps she had ever experienced.

**A/N: So I could use this note to talk about how much this chapter is pushing the ratings and how 'oh Evie why do you always make your Elizabeths more innocent than your Darcys and why are your Darcys man-sluts/sex pests' or 'wait isn't this confusing Darcy said one thing there and the opposite there', but for the past few days I've had other things on my mind. **

**All of my Australian readers are aware of the devastating floods in Queensland and northern New South Wales, not to mention the bushfires in Western Australia, and I believe that the news has turned global now. There have been massive amounts of unbelievable destruction of people's homes, and right now I think the death toll stands at thirteen, many of whom were children, and the missing persons changes every hour, it seems. Thousands of homes have been destroyed and entire towns are under water. **

**Watching this on the news and being in the position of not knowing if some of my family is safe as Brisbane floods and towns are simply washed away is... well, there's no way to describe it. There is an estimated 11 billion dollars worth of damage, and that might rise as this disaster continues. Please, if you have prayers then use them on the people of Queensland and New South Wales, and if you don't, then just hope. I don't want to guilt anyone into anything, so I won't ask you to donate or anything of the sort, but I want people to be aware of the situation, because you never know if you could somehow help. If you have been, are being or know people who are being effected by these floods or bushfires in WA (which were disgustingly started by an arsonist, it seems), then my heart goes out to you. There isn't much I can do but hope that Australia will come out of this with as little damage as possible, but what's already occurred has been devastating. **

**Sorry to be so depressing, but I'm sure anyone who has been watching the incredibly graphic images on the news understands. **

**Much love, **

**Evie xoxoxo**


	26. Of Petals and PostIts

"_I want to hurry home to you, put on a slow dark show for you,_

_And crack you up, so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain_

_God I'm very, very frightening, I'll overdo it,_

_You know I dreamed about you, for twenty-nine years before I met you,_"

-The National, 'Slow Show'

Eerin was surprised how easy it was to settle into a domestic routine with Darcy. After waking up beside him she couldn't imagine ever waking up alone again – not when he greeted her with the softest, most loving of kisses and fetched her a cup of tea in bed. She was even beginning to tolerate Boots, just a little.

She remained in his flat until Thursday morning, before, much to his disappointment; she climbed into her car and drove back to the shire. She took a few trips over to Jan's place every now and then to fetch clothing and other necessities, but after only a few days her little additions were already noticeable – her toothbrush in the bathroom, her moisturiser by the sink, some fresh fruit and vegetables in the kitchen and he had even cleared plenty of wardrobe space for her, although most of what she had been wearing for the past few days belonged to him anyway. They went to university at separate times; she preferred to walk and he drove over in the morning.

For the first day or two it was quite awkward, she saw him in class and then after nothing but a chaste kiss on the cheek between his lectures she returned to the flat to await his return. He left for the university at about a quarter to eight and didn't return until five or six that afternoon, which gave her plenty of time to work on assignments in the comfort of his home, but also make a few small changes.

"It's not that I don't like them. I do. It just seems... different," Darcy explained one night as he inspected the throw cushions she had purchased at Bed, Bath & Home to lighten the appearance of the overly-masculine living room.

"Hey. You're lucky they weren't pink," she retorted with a scoff, tossing one of the cushions at him. He chuckled.

"Eerin, please don't sulk. I want you to think of this place as yours too," he urged her gently as she plunked herself down on the settee.

"You don't like the cushions, I can tell."

"I love them. I love everything you got, even though I don't really understand the purpose of it all," he smiled, sliding down beside her. She rolled her eyes.

"It's for the décor, stupid-face. You already have this Victorian-meets-Orientalism thing going on anyway, and the candles smell like chocolate," she objected, gesturing to a set of differently shaped brown candles sitting on the coffee table.

"I'm not criticising them. But please, can we do this together? I'd like to have a say in the... décor," he requested with a small smirk, slinking his hand across the small of her back to curl around her hip and pulled her onto his lap. Any objections were swallowed with his lips on hers.

Eerin smiled at the memory as she pulled into the freeway. After a rather lovely series of kisses they (Darcy, for the most part) got a little carried away on the internet, ordering several items for the flat to reduce the masculine intensity. She told her he was being a little over the top as he ordered a seven hundred dollar Indian inspired coffee table that was so low to the ground it was almost impractical, but he kept on assuring her that he wanted to make her feel comfortable in his home.

The sincerity of his intentions was so honest and loving to her that she might have allowed his hands to stray a little more than she really felt ready for later that night, but she remained firm to her resolve of waiting, at least a little longer, before they took that final leap. It was probably what made parting so difficult; they said goodbye that morning after breakfast, but the longing glance he shot her at the end of the morning lecture before she left was almost enough to make her want to drive back to his flat and wait for his return. She didn't know how she was going to survive not seeing him until Monday, but they had discussed their routine. It was the only way things were going to work without anyone discovering the truth of their arrangement.

In fact, Eerin had only told Maddy about Darcy. Not even Carmen knew – but Carmen had an internship and a new 'toy boy' so she wasn't able to spare more than a few minutes of conversation over the phone a day, and there just wasn't a way to bring it up. In some ways, Eerin was grateful. She didn't want to discuss her relationship with anyone, she just wanted to disappear and be held by Darcy.

The only real exception to this was Hamish. She had told Hamish almost immediately, of course, because he really was her closest friend. He was more like a brother, really, and he immediately assumed the protective 'Big Brother' role in her life when she told him.

"What kind of bloke goes for a girl half his age?" he had questioned her snappishly when they met for Max Brenner before she started work at the spa on Thursday night.

"Instead of looking at him as a cradle snatcher, you could look at me as a grave robber," she rationalised thoughtfully, stirring a chocolate spoon through her suckao.

"Don't make light of this. He's a lot older than you. He might just be in this for one thing, Rin," he reminded her, after rolling his hazel eyes.

"He's not. I know he's not. Hell, if he was, he's had opportunities to act like one, but he never does," she insisted firmly. Hamish gave a worried sigh, and stared at her with a mixture of pity and concern.

"Has it occurred to you that he's using you to make up for everything he missed when he was raising his sister?" he asked, after a short, painful silence. Eerin shrugged, and stared at her plate.

"Maybe that's a little part of it, but I don't think that means he doesn't love me," she murmured.

"Babe, you know I love you. And you know I'd do anything to protect you, so you can forgive me for worrying a little," he replied, reaching for her hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. She returned the gesture with a small smile. "I want you to be careful. Don't lose yourself," he said firmly. She nodded, and the issue was closed, for which she was grateful. She didn't want anyone bursting the happy bubble of bliss she had with Darcy.

When she was with him she felt so terribly secure, warm and loved, but when they were apart, even for a moment, she was suddenly filled with a crippling sense of doubt and insecurity that left her both craving and fearing his presence. That was probably what held her back from his touch, his wandering hands, his insistent lips or his murmured desires – the insecurity. She could tell he was growing impatient, but she just wasn't _sure_ about her feelings.

So for the next four days she busied herself at work. Every moment she wasn't working at the spa she was doing assessments for uni, and the excess work left her too tired to even contemplate the ongoing sense of fear with each day she spent away from him. Phone calls and the occasional email helped, but it wasn't the same as his warm hands running through her short dark hair or his lips on her neck.

But to say that Eerin was suffering the worst of it would be a complete falsehood. Darcy was filled to the brim with frustration from the moment she left the classroom on Thursday morning. He tried to busy himself at the university, because when he came home he saw those cushions on the lounge or smelt those chocolate candles; and when he opened the fridge he could see her fresh, healthy food everywhere, everything made him think of her in the most obsessional way. It was never the story with Laura – he liked having her around, but he didn't feel as if he _needed_ her.

And he needed Eerin. He didn't think he'd be able to stand it when she had to leave again.

Which was probably why he was particularly disappointed when she called on Sunday night to say she wouldn't be coming.

"What do you _mean_, you're not coming?" he demanded angrily, only a few minutes after picking up the phone.

"_Jan came home to spend a few days with us, and she's made out a very long list of things we have to do. She said Chase is going to talk to you about me missing class, Will, I can't get there without telling her the truth_," she insisted. He scoffed.

"I haven't touched you since Thursday, Eerin. I've been thinking about you for days. Please, tell her you need to hand in an assignment or something," he practically begged, Boots scrambling away from around his ankles when she could sense his frustration.

"_She knows I can do that all online!_"

"Tell her I hate computers!"

"_Will, she knows you can't survive without your iPhone, laptop and iPad with you at all times_," she retorted. Darcy growled in anger.

"Well tell her that by doing this she's making it increasingly more unlikely that I'm _ever_ going to have sex again, and I'm personally very upset about that!" he snapped. Eerin couldn't help but laugh.

"_Yeah, I can see the conversation now. 'Jan, sorry, I can't stay to help you for doctor's appointments and wedding plans because my boyfriend, who I've not told you about because he's also my teacher, would very much like some sex and he's kind of been holding out for a while. Have fun by yourself!_'" she drawled.

"I see no problem with that," he huffed petulantly.

"_Will. Seriously, I'll see you next Monday, and I swear, the wait will be worth it_," she insisted.

Darcy didn't respond for a good five or ten seconds.

"Really?"

"_Yes. Really. Now I kind of have to go, I'll_ –"

"Are you just leaving me on that note? Have you no _pity_, woman?" he cried incredulously. She laughed.

"_Will, I have to go_."

"What are you wearing?"

"_Nothing. Got to go_," she giggled.

"Really? Nothing? Please elaborate," he requested. She sighed.

"_Well, I'm actually wearing my work uniform because I'm at the spa right now, talking in the storage room, which is why I have to go!_" she insisted with another laugh.

"What, you're telling me that you're not wearing anything one minute, and then you tell me you're wearing a uniform, and then you say you're in a spa, rubbing other women with oil? You are the world's worst tease, my dear," he scoffed.

"_Hmm, I know. But I have to go, I've got a woman coming in about thirty seconds and I haven't prepared the room yet. I'll see you next Monday, I swear, and I'll wear that blouse, if you want_," she assured him.

"And the jeans? You'll wear the jeans too?"

"_No, it's winter, I'll just wear the blouse, Will_," she drawled.

"That is _not_ something to joke about, Eerin," he warned. She sighed.

"_Will, I'll be wearing the jeans. Wait a week and it'll definitely be worth it, I swear_," she insisted. He smiled into the phone.

"Alright, I'll wait. You can get the lectures online, but I'll have to dock your attendance. But you're averaging a high distinction in the course anyway so it won't matter," he said finally.

"_Good man. I'll see you Monday, keep your legs crossed 'til then_," she teased him, before they finally bid each other goodbye and hung up.

Darcy couldn't help but smirk as he put the phone back on the receiver, just as Boots poked her head out of the hallway, looking at him as if to question his sudden good mood.

"I'll tell you when you're older, Boots," he said to the feline, before returning to the kitchen to cook his dinner, counting the hours he would have to wait until next Monday.

* * *

Eerin couldn't help but smile all week. She sighed happily at all moments when Jan wasn't asking her a drastically important question about what colour the canopies should be or if the ultrasound pictures made her look fat. On one side, she was lost in a flurry of dress fittings, florist meetings and food samples, and she often didn't have time to think about Darcy as she desperately helped Jan pull together her wedding, and trips to the doctors were there too to break up the monotony, but on the other hand...

She'd recently realised that she had been so caught up trying to meet the fervour of Darcy's affections for her, that she hadn't let hers develop enough to grow at her own speed. Darcy had learnt to love her hard and fast and with his whole being, for which she was grateful and in awe of. She had come to understand that to be loved by Darcy was not a simple or passive thing, not when such a man willingly gave her his all and desperately sought reassurance that he was not alone in his feelings.

"When did you know you loved Chase?" she had questioned Jan just after making this decision, her sister desperately sorting through guest lists and address books from just about everyone she ever knew.

"Uh, there wasn't some sort of epiphany, darling," she smiled good naturedly, glancing over her shoulder to her little sister as she took down names. "Why? Do you have a secret boyfriend, sweetie?" she enquired teasingly. Eerin rolled her eyes.

If only she knew.

"I'm just... curious," she shrugged. Jane laughed, and nodded.

"Well, I suppose I lied when I said there wasn't an epiphany. There was, but..." she sighed dreamily. "It came on gradually, and I realised I love him. I didn't suddenly love him, but I started the moment we met. I had loved him for some time before I realised it," she shrugged.

Eerin frowned slightly at her list.

"I suppose it was difficult to put a name on it. I didn't know, 'love' is such a strange term. All those Hollywood films have beautiful people falling in and out of love like it was something that didn't burn or smoulder or hurt," she continued thoughtfully. "It just seems to be taken for granted in movies and television, but I just... I love him with everything I have and that's it," she smiled finally, glancing over to her sister. "Are you alright?" she questioned with concern.

Eerin nodded.

"I'm perfect," she smiled, before returning to her list.

That was when she knew she had something to tell Darcy. She knew from almost the moment she drove away from his place that she was ready to give him what he wanted, but... to tell him that she loved him was something different.

So by the time a week passed and almost all the wedding preparations were finished Eerin was practically buzzing with excitement and longing to see him, to show him how she felt. But when she walked into his class on Monday morning she was struck with a sudden sense of nervousness that made it hard for her to breathe.

"Ah. Miss Beaumont. Finally making an appearance," he greeted her with a cool smirk. She blushed, his lecture class assuming it was out of embarrassment for being singled out.

But in reality, her cheeks were burning from the intensity of his gaze as his eyes swept up and down her body.

"Sorry, sir, I had a frantic bride-to-be on my hands," she replied simply, taking her usual seat.

"I hope she has a degree in Iconography and was helpful with your studies for that week, because we got quite a lot done without your constant interruptions," he retorted, crossing his arms across his chest.

She gently pressed her teeth against her bottom lip.

Darcy's eyes flashed dark with desire and he gave a small cough.

"I'll be docking your attendance. But you're just one of the many who didn't take me seriously when I said I would fail you in this course if you didn't attend every lecture and tutorial," he snapped, but there was a harshness to his voice that wasn't caused by anger.

She crossed her legs.

He swallowed.

"See me after class. I'll give you the work you missed," he practically growled, before turning to his desk.

Eerin wanted to laugh. He was in such a state – for the whole lesson he could barely take his eyes off her, and on more than one occasion he had to stop and recall his train of thought. He was absolutely adorable, but it did make her feel slightly guilty, teasing him so much. Nevertheless, she couldn't wait for class to be over. She gave a sigh of relief when he finally dismissed the class, his eyes still dark with desire and locked onto hers.

"Rin, you must be brave, wagging for a week," Sean hissed almost nervously, poking her on the shoulder from behind. She hid a small smirk.

"Uh, I think I'll be alright," she assured him.

"I'll stay with you. He probably won't rip you apart if I'm here," he insisted firmly.

Eerin glanced to Darcy, who was watching her intently as she packed up.

"Um, I don't think that's necessary, Sean," she replied almost nervously. He shook his head and jumped over the row of seats.

"Nup, I'm sticking around. Got to keep an eye on you, missy. And besides, Hayden and I were going over to Manly, enjoy the warm weather while we still can. What do you say?" he offered with a broad smile. She laughed.

"Actually, I don't think I can do that this arvo," she apologised with a weak smile of apology. Sean pulled a face.

"Come on, aren't you living in the city now? You can spare an hour or two," he practically pleaded.

"Well, I'm kipping at my boyfriend's place, actually, and we haven't seen each other for almost two weeks, so I was kind of hoping to –" she began, but was interrupted with Sean's loud laugh.

"Alright, enough said, babes. I understand, you're going to go set up candles and prance around in your undies. Well, just because I'm not getting any doesn't mean the rest of the world should be deprived," he smirked, clapping her firmly on the back. She couldn't help but blush.

"I wasn't going to prance around in my undies, Sean. 'Sides, I don't even know if he's into that," she scolded quietly, hazarding a small glance over to Darcy, who was packing up his notes, and didn't seem to notice.

"If he's a bloke, then he is. Well hurry up then with the Professor, I'm still not leaving you alone with him," Sean urged her, pushing her up towards Darcy's desk. "Sir, not meaning to be rude, but can you be nice to Rinny? She's planning on getting lucky," he requested teasingly.

"Sean!" she exclaimed with bright red cheeks, but her friend only laughed.

"Mister Rowland, I'll do my best to, as you said, 'be nice' to Miss Beaumont, but she did miss several of my classes," Darcy replied, his voice steady and cool.

"Can I get a man's opinion on something, sir?" Sean questioned.

"That depends entirely on the issue. If you're enquiring about something academic, then yes. If medical, emotional or anything in general I don't care about, then no," he said shortly. Sean smirked at Eerin.

"Well, she's not seen her boyfriend in a while, and she doesn't think she should do the whole romantic candlelight, lingerie and rose petals thing or not. She doesn't know if her man is into it," he explained simply. Eerin socked him in the stomach, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Sean! _You_ assumed I was going to do all that, I never even mentioned it!" she snapped, the bright red shade of her cheeks a testament to her embarrassment.

"I can simply say, Miss Beaumont, as long as your partner is male, which I can only guess, then there is never a situation in which candles, lingerie and rose petals are not a good idea," Darcy said with a small, quiet smirk. Eerin's heart gave a leap and she bit against her bottom lip as Sean gave a triumphant cry.

"I knew it. And if you can jump out of a cake, that helps too, bub," Sean informed his friend with a smirk. Eerin was startled from her thoughts with his hand clapping her firmly on the back for the second time that morning, and her cheeks once more flushed brightly.

"Shut the fuck up, Sean."

"Mister Rowland, I would rather if you went to your next class. I have a lot to run through with Miss Beaumont and only five minutes before my next lecture, and I can assure you, I will 'be nice' to her. You will have no fears for her safety," Darcy assured the young man. Sean gave a laugh, and then finally left the lecture room.

Eerin didn't move, only lowered her eyes to the desk as she heard the door slam.

Darcy, on the other hand, was still calmly packing away his things.

"I take it you don't actually have the work I missed?" she questioned, finally raising her eyes to meet his. They were flashing darkly, and almost seemed to burn into her.

"Put your bag down, Eerin," he said almost breathlessly. She barely had time to say 'what?' before she felt firm, insistent hands pulling her crashing into his chest and lips were crushed against hers, her back against the hard surface of his desk he had been calmly clearing through the conversation only seconds before. His kisses were instant and echoed the longing that had been consuming her since she left his lecture on Thursday – she had missed him, and he seemed to have missed her too.

"Not –" gasp "- got another class?" she enquired against his lips, her breath hitching so the words were almost inaudible as his hands roamed across her sides.

"I do. I'm probably going to be late," he murmured against her neck.

"I should let you get to your class," she reasoned logically.

"They don't need me."

With that the matter seemed closed, but as Darcy's phone buzzed with a reminder for his next class he finally tore his lips away from hers and his hand from the back pocket of her jeans.

"I currently despise my job," he grumbled. Eerin laughed against his chest as she pulled herself up.

"Poor baby. I was going to get some groceries and head back to the flat. Do we need anything?" she questioned, brushing her hair back and straightening her blouse. Darcy sent her a meaningful glance.

"That depends entirely on what your intentions are, my dear," he said severely, picking up his briefcase. She gave a small, nervous laugh.

"Um, I assume you mean – uh, 'preventative measures'?" she challenged. He had the decency to look moderately embarrassed.

"I don't want you to be pressured into anything at all. I just want to know if... it's a possibility. And if we _should_ invest in some 'preventative measures', just in case something... does occur," he said slowly, thinking over his words as he sorted through his papers.

"Well, it kind of takes the spontaneity out of it," she said with teasing thoughtfulness. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"I'd rather have a lack of spontaneity now instead of too much nine months later," he said simply. She gave another laugh.

"Well, I suppose the fact that I got a prescription for the pill almost two weeks ago has nothing to do with spontaneity?" she challenged. He gave a slight smile of relief.

"Good. I knew you were a clever woman. I don't think I'm ready to be 'Daddy' again," he laughed, his eyes turning soft. "And... you know, I'm not expecting anything. Just seeing you is enough, I've missed you terribly. You mustn't feel like we... need to do anything," he assured her, as if seized with a sudden sense of insecurity. He stepped forwards and took her hands, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles that almost made her melt to the floor.

"I know. I guess we'll just see what happens, but at least we know we've got it covered if something... does happen," she decided with a small smile. He nodded, and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I actually do have some work for you. Oh, and just about everything we ordered online came in yesterday afternoon," he informed her, turning to pull open his folder and rifle through papers. Eerin took a moment to steal one of the post-its on the corner of his desk and scribble something atop it before he handed her the sheets. "What's that?" he questioned, glancing to it. She grinned, and shook her head.

"Read it when I'm gone," she insisted, sliding off the desk. She took the sheets, raised herself up to the tips of her toes and pressed a firm kiss on his lips, before grabbing her bag. "I'll see you in a few hours," she smirked, before pressing the post-it into his hand and running from the room before he could say another word.

Darcy chuckled as he watched her go.

He waited until she was out of sight before glancing at the post-it note, his heart almost stopping as he read it.

"Eerin!" he called out immediately, making to run after her, but she was gone by the time he pulled open the door. He turned back to the post-it note.

That wasn't how it was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be... well, not done via post-it note.

But then again, he'd been so damn nervous when he first told _her_ that he couldn't really blame her for not doing it face-to-face.

But still... he would have liked to hear her say it.

He sighed, but then that sigh turned into a small laugh as he slipped the little scrap of yellow paper into his pocket, where the words '_Just thought you might want to know, I love you. I hope you appreciate the memo. –E.'_ sat protected from the outside world.

In reality, it really was a very Eerin way of doing things.

**A/N: Wow. Can I just say thank you to all the comforting and supporting messages I've received? You guys are really all something special. As a slight update to the disaster situation, some readers have expressed concern over my own safety, but you don't need to worry, it's unlikely that my town will flood, and we've heard from most of my Queensland relatives. Luckily my cousin, her fiancé and their baby daughter were evacuated before they were placed in danger and might be living with my family for a little while, and we think my aunts and uncles and cousins up North are all fine. Over the past few days the floods got very, very bad, and now the major flooding in Queensland seems to have descended from its peak, and Australia is now in the stage of recovery, which has led to the discovery of more bodies and the government now has a picture of how massive the recovery effort will need to be. **

**There is a lot of work to be done, and there are still floods in Victoria and Northern New South Wales. This won't be over for a long time, but I've recently become aware that there is flooding all over the world, and I send out my deepest sympathies for any other areas experiencing hardship. **

**But, this is no place for such sad things. I rather like this chapter, because it sees a very definite progression in Darcy and Eerin's relationship, but be warned; next chapter the bubble pops when someone from Darcy's past flies in for a little visit, and the secrecy of their relationship is jeopardised. Until then, much love and many thanks from Evie!**


	27. Of Love and Laura

"_What a shame we all became such fragile broken things,_

_A memory remains such a tiny spark, I give it all my oxygen_

_So let the flames begin, so let the flames begin, oh glory,_

_This is how we'll dance when, when they try to take us down,"_

-Paramore, 'Let the Flames Begin'

Eerin rolled over with a comfortable sort of yawn, silken sheets tangling around her bare waist, the late afternoon light streaming in through the bedroom windows. It took her a moment to recall the events of the past few hours; the kisses, the tentative, testing-of-the-waters touches, the constant crashing motion of frantic desperation and then nervous, loving kisses before ardour claimed them once more.

She was filled with a wonderful, electric, thrilling shudder as she thought of it; Darcy storming into the flat, insisting that she had chosen one of the worst possible ways of telling him of her realised feelings, but that he absolutely adored her for it anyway, and then her memory was a blur of movement, touches and sensations.

"Hey. What's doing?" she questioned her – dare she say it – _lover_, as he sat on the chair in the corner, a Moleskine diary and a pacer held in hand. He rolled his eyes.

"Your post-coital greetings are 'what's doing?' How utterly romantic of you," he drawled teasingly. She scoffed, and sat up, pulling the sheets up with her to cover her chest, although she knew not why – he'd already seen it.

"This is post-post-coital. I believe we had a wonderfully detailed post-coital conversation that consisted of some very soppy declarations of love," she retorted teasingly. He gave a small, almost tentative smile, and she blushed brightly.

"So," he said softly. Her skin prickled, suddenly feeling too tight, too hot, and too foreign.

"So," she practically squeaked in response, holding the sheet tighter to her chest as if it were her security blanket. He chuckled at her nervousness.

"How do you feel?" he asked carefully, closing his book and leaving it on the chair as he moved to join her on the bed. He looked a great deal more comfortable, particularly as he had changed back into his trousers and had obviously pulled on a shirt. She shrugged.

"Um, how am I supposed to feel?" she enquired with a slight frown.

"Good, bad, disappointed, hopeful, disgusted, happy, sad, regretful, there's a plethora of choices," he returned with a slightly nervous smile. She laughed.

"Uh, I _do_ feel good, so that rules out bad, I'm certainly _not_ disappointed, I don't really know how 'hopeful' applies in this context but I suppose I'm looking forward to a repeat at some point in the near future, I'm definitely _not_ disgusted, I'm ridiculously, giddily, ashamedly happy, there's no possible way I could be sad and I don't regret any of it," she listed simply.

"Good. That's... good," he smiled softly, pushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ears. She gave a nervous smile and felt her cheeks blush brightly.

"And you?" she questioned almost anxiously. He chuckled.

"I thought I was pretty vocal with how much I enjoyed that, but I can understand a feeling of insecurity," he assured her gently. She gave a sudden sigh and fell back on the bed. He slid down to join her.

"Why are we so awkward? I'll just say it. . I... I don't know why we didn't start doing that a long time ago. _Really_ good," she insisted firmly. He laughed at her conviction, and slid the sheet down.

"Don't hide yourself, and I quite agree. Much more preferable than simply lying next to you every night, unable to trust myself not to take advantage of you," he replied teasingly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"What was the book?" she questioned curiously, spotting it out of the corner of her eye.

"Hmm? Oh, that. Nothing to worry about. Are you hungry, or would you rather –"

"Oh goodie, I'd like to see you think of a posh, British way of saying 'another round'," she smirked. He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, what's the book? Is it a diary or something?" she questioned curiously.

"No. It's... well, it's just a notebook," he shrugged, adjusting his position so he could put support on his elbow and lie on his side. Eerin raised an eyebrow.

"I've woken up to see you writing in it a few times, you know. What it is?" she asked again.

He gave a huff of disappointment, and reluctantly rose to fetch the book. He seemed quite hesitant to place it in her hands, but did so anyway. She immediately sat up and opened to the first page.

"You draw?" she exclaimed in surprise, looking up to him. He gave a somewhat sheepish nod.

"I told you. I have a degree in art," he shrugged simply.

Eerin took out several pieces of small paper that had obviously been pulled out of the back of a book with curiosity. Over the entire surface of the page were perfectly precise lines, shapes and tones, all making out a decidedly female form. She swallowed.

"Is this –"

"Yes," he said shortly, before she could even ask, his pale eyes lowered.

"This is from Chase's boat trip," she reminded him with slight surprise. He nodded.

"I wanted you before that."

She shivered as those words reverberated around her. She didn't say anything as she continued to inspect the book. Pages and pages filled of nothing but... _her_. She was drawn in every position and style imaginable, some must have been done from memory, such as her beautiful birthday gown or leaning on the railings of the ferry, but others were more detailed, and showed a human study, particularly the many sketches of her sitting at her desk in lectures or tutorials.

And there were others that could be only done by imagination.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed suddenly, her eyes widening as she opened to a rather shocking image. Darcy gave an embarrassed huff.

"You weren't supposed to see it," he defended.

"When did you draw this?" she demanded.

"Which one is it?" he winced. She held it up to reveal the sketch, her lying on her back, naked, with her head off the side and curls streaming down to the floor, her hands in a rather inappropriate position for a thirty-something university professor to be imagining. "Oh. Uh – the night of your birthday. Or rather, early morning. I woke up and couldn't sleep, so I... yes," he explained awkwardly.

Eerin's cheeks flushed as she pulled the book back to her and continued casting her eyes over the sketches. Some were in a similar vein, decidedly sensual, but there were others that were much more... domestic. Some she knew could only be from Port Stephens, as he began to draw her with short hair.

And then suddenly there were at least ten pages filled with her asleep in his bed in the morning. That must have been what he was drawing – her in a number of positions, her hair ruffled from sleep, blankets tangled over her body, and then she found those he had only just been working on.

Some were not exactly chaste and innocent, but after passing her eyes over the page that reminisced their after-school activities, she found the last page, of her asleep, the sheets tangled around her waist, her chest bare and one arm sitting lazily over her ribs.

"You really weren't meant to see this," he assured her firmly. She closed the book.

"You're a wonderful artist," she complimented. He blushed slightly.

"I can understand if you feel... violated. It's an intrusion of privacy, I understand, but I just – I was very lonely for a long time, and suddenly you appeared in my life, and I – I just..." he trailed off with a sigh, running a hand through his dark hair. "Well, that's ruined a perfectly wonderful evening," he muttered.

"Will. Seriously, it's beautiful, and I'm not angry. Shocked, but not angry," she said softly. He gave a relieved smile.

"I suppose you think I'm some lecherous old man drawing pictures of a lovely young woman," he commented ashamedly. She slid over in the bed and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder.

"Never. I've never thought that about you," she said firmly. He gave a relieved sigh, his hand sliding down to rest on the small of her uncovered back. "Are you still angry about the post-it thing?" she questioned, after a silence that lasted only a few minutes, but felt like forever as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Hmm? No, actually. I was thinking about how much I hope Thursday never comes," he replied with a small shrug, before turning his head to look at her. She blushed as his eyes raked over her form, and she lowered her head against the side of his ribs. She closed her eyes and breathed in his comforting scent.

"You're really serious about this, aren't you," she said suddenly, her voice muffled against his body. He slid away slightly.

"Now please repeat?" he requested with a laughing sort of smile. She kept her eyes lowered as she spoke.

"It's just... you're very serious about this. About... me," she said quietly. He reached forwards and pulled her chin up slightly.

"Is that a bad thing?" he questioned gently. She shrugged, and he sighed before continuing. "Yes. I am. I'm quite taken with you, if you haven't noticed before," he informed her with a small smile.

"How long? How long have you been in love with me?" she asked curiously.

"I think I knew it on the night we had dinner with my Aunt, but I'm quite sure it was before then. I fell very hard and very fast for you," he answered thoughtfully. That sent a small thrill through her.

"Really? That was months ago," she practically whispered. He nodded.

"It's more likely that I fell in love with you the moment we first touched. I think that was what made me suddenly realise that I couldn't live without touching you every day for the rest of my life," he said quietly.

"I feel terrible. I don't remember when that happened," she frowned slightly.

"Your birthday party. When we danced. I had to stop myself from dragging you bellow deck and doing what I did just then," he answered with a faintly amused smile as he traced gentle, invisible patterns over her shoulder with the pads of his fingers. Eerin shivered, which caused his smile to grow slightly.

"Whatever happened to your Aunt? I was going to have lunch with her, I think, but I never heard from her," she frowned with slight curiosity. He chuckled.

"She went home not long after, actually. Arianna complained about the heat and they flew back to England. She's like that, making appointments she never keeps. She wanted me to fly back with her, but I saw no point, I'll be seeing her in London in a month or two," he shrugged, sliding one hand down her body to wrap loosely around her waist, resting his chin atop her head.

"So you're going back to England for the semester break?" she questioned quietly. He nodded.

"Mm. Just London, I doubt I'll make it up to Derbyshire, what with my Aunt, Uncle and cousins all staying in London for the summer," he answered, smoothing back her hair and pressing a tiny kiss to the top of her head. "Do you still want to go with me?" he asked suddenly.

"Is the offer still open?" she returned with a raised brow. He smiled as she lifted her head up to meet his eyes.

"Of course it is. We could stop over in France before we went to London, you know. Marseilles in the summer is lovely; I think a week hidden away in the French Riviera would be quite pleasant. Almost like a honeymoon," he murmured suggestively into her neck.

"Really? Are you serious?" she exclaimed excitedly. He bit back a smile as he nodded.

"My grandmother was French, and when she passed away she left a small château to my mother, and then it came to me. Ana uses it quite a lot, but I've not been for a year or two. I think I'd rather enjoy the holiday," he explained with a small shrug. Eerin's eyes were lit up with excitement.

"That sounds wonderful," she sighed dreamily. He chuckled. "But wait – we'll have to tell your family about us then," she realised suddenly, her eyes widening. Darcy nodded.

"Mm. I think I'll tell them before we leave, though. They can be... uh, rather judgemental," he explained with slight hesitation, shifting his eyes from her face. She groaned and buried her head in his shoulder.

"Oh dear. I'm going to be the backwater gold-digger to them," she sighed miserably.

"What? No, no, Eerin! That's not what I meant," he assured her firmly, resting one hand on the back of her neck and stroking it with his thumb to comfort her. "Let's just stay here forever instead," he muttered with a groan as he thought of how his family would react to his relationship with Eerin. He rolled her onto her side and clutched her tightly to his chest as if that alone could protect her.

"But... but if you're serious about me, then they'll need to know, Will," she reminded him. He winced.

"We'll invite them to the wedding and perhaps a christening or two. Hopefully they'll get the message without me having to state it explicitly," he decided firmly. Eerin laughed.

"William Darcy, if we get married one day then they'll want a bit more notice than just an invitation to a wedding where they've never heard of the bride," she reminded him.

"You mean _when_ we get married, not _if_, and we'll tell them. I swear. But I think we'll have to prepare you a little first," he sighed, running his hand along the length of her arm in a comforting motion. But he didn't know who he was comforting, him or her.

"Are you... ashamed of me?" she questioned quietly, so quietly it was almost a murmur.

"What? God, no, Eerin, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but my family are going to tear you –" he stopped. "Huh. Hmm," he finished thoughtfully, pulling away slightly. She raised a brow.

"What?"

"I think I forgot who I was talking to. It's more likely that _you_ would tear _them_ apart if they gave you even the slightest bit of cheek," he mused with a faint smile. She rolled her eyes.

"So what if I'm a little defensive. They're just going to have to accept that an ex-lesbian twenty-year-old student masseuse who lives in the sticks and has insane parents is the person their little boy wants to be with," she shrugged simply, ruffling his dark hair playfully. He gave a slightly pained smile. "What?" she questioned, the laughter fading from her eyes.

"I know you're strong enough, Eerin, to suffer anything my family could put you through, but I don't want you to have to suffer it," he muttered almost ashamedly.

"_William_, I love you and I love Ana, and if you want me to be a part of your life then I won't let anyone else stop me, so your family will just have to accept that," she said smartly. He rolled over to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling.

"I only wish I had your conviction," he sighed, before giving a breathy chuckle. "Well, we'll have to take you shopping first. We'll just pretend we're doing something for the wedding and I'll finally be able to spoil you properly," he smiled. Eerin rolled her dark eyes.

"I am spoilt. And the break is still over two months away. You don't need to buy me things, William," she assured him. He turned to his side and moved his hand to rest on the curve of her thigh almost possessively.

"But I want to. I have a propensity to spoil the people I love, and I don't love a lot of people," he shrugged. Eerin hid a tiny smile.

"Well... maybe. But I really don't need anything," she assured him. He lowered his eyes slightly.

"I... I want you to have everything you could possibly need here. I want to be able to pretend you live here normally, and that when you go back to your parent's home you're someone else," he began quietly, before meeting her eyes once more. "I want this to be your 'home'. And by putting things in it that belong to you, that I've given you, I can at least live in that dream that you're always mine," he explained, as if he were admitting something he wished he didn't have to. She reached forwards and cupped his cheek with her small hand.

"I didn't know it meant that much to you," she murmured. He shrugged, and gave a breathy laugh.

"It does, I suppose. That and the fact that if you're not drenched in designer wear when you meet my Aunt, she'll very likely snub you completely," he warned. Eerin rolled her dark eyes.

"I'm sure I can take her," she assured him, sliding over in bed to curl next to his side. She sighed with blissful contentedness. "What are your family like?" she asked curiously, sliding her hand lazily across the contours of his chest. He was just so... _handsome_, and she was certain she could spend years just lounging around in bed, basking in the warm glow he created for her.

"Well, you've met Richard," he began thoughtfully, casting his eyes out the large window to the late afternoon Sydney cityscape.

"Are they like him?" she asked hopefully. He sniggered.

"No. Quite the opposite. Richard has always been a black sheep, he was disowned, actually, for quite some time," he chuckled. Eerin sat up slightly, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Seriously? What did he do?" she exclaimed. Darcy tilted his head back with an amused grin.

"Well, this was in his early twenties, just after he finished at Cambridge and met his first wife Daphne," he began, with the air of one telling a very enjoyable story. "He introduced her as a 'dancer', but I think that's a rather loose term. In actuality I think she was a stripper, but I never asked," he chuckled.

"Oh my _god, _I'm teasing him for that one!" she giggled, her dark eyes twinkling with laughter. Darcy tried to hide his smirk as he continued.

"She was obviously very unsuitable, and had absolutely no sense of decorum. She actually made several attempts to... well, I suppose 'seduce' me. I was only sixteen or seventeen at the time, and she had quite the mind of her own," he sniggered. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"I'll bet."

"I didn't, of course. I was a wreck at this time. She was, despite all her failings, a very compassionate woman with an engaging sense of humour, and she looked after Richard and Ana well," he assured her. Eerin nodded in eager interest. "But she wasn't suitable, and made it her point to offend Richard's father, my uncle, at every opportunity. He was given an ultimatum, and he chose Daphne. But they didn't last very long," he continued, absentmindedly running his hand across the length of her arm as the lay curled up in the bed.

"Well, we all knew he was a bit of a player," she giggled into his shoulder.

"But when he divorced her he was accepted back into the Fitzwilliam family. And Daphne was a great deal more pleasant than Victor's wife," he muttered with a pronounced frown.

"Who's Victor?"

"My cousin, Richard's older brother. You're never to speak to him alone, do you hear? You're not to be anywhere near him when I'm not with you," he demanded firmly, tilting his head to meet her eyes. She nodded in concerned confusion.

"Why?" she questioned curiously.

"He has a taste for beautiful young women, and he's not gentle when he wants something, even if it's not his," he answered vaguely, but there was still a decided frown to his expression. Eerin's eyes widened slightly.

"And he's married?" she questioned in disbelief. He nodded.

"Yes, Melissa. Absolutely unbearable," he shuddered. "She drinks rather heavily, but thinks no one else notices. She's beautiful in a way, and the only ounce of intelligence she has is devoted to causing pain," he scowled. "She tried to take Ana away from me several times. And to have me institutionalised, while she was at it," he added with an unusual harshness to his tone.

"Why would she do that?" Eerin exclaimed with a frown, sliding her arm over his chest in a comforting move. He slid his hand into hers and did not speak for some moments.

"I didn't talk for a year or so after my parents died. I had nothing to say, so I just... stopped speaking. Some people thought I went mad with grief, or claimed I had an anxiety disorder," he shrugged simply.

"But that's not enough to take a baby away from someone," Eerin said quietly. He gave another shrug.

"I'll save the rest of the story for later. Perhaps that will shed some light on it," he muttered simply, before sighing. "I don't understand that woman. She's miserable, I suppose. She has nothing but a cheating, lying husband and a horrifically rude young boy," he almost growled.

"How old is he?"

"About your age. She fell pregnant when she was very young, that's why she and Victor married. She's still only a few years older than me," he explained simply. "Cyril is a carbon copy of his father. Rude, demanding, selfish and violent. He also, to my understanding, has quite a taste for women, so you're not to be alone with him, either," he instructed. Eerin nodded in understanding.

"I'm getting a little worried about your family now, William," she admitted somewhat sheepishly. He gave a dry, bitter chuckle.

"They're nothing compared to Uncle Matlock. Absolutely _nothing_. My uncle is a monster of the highest order. If there's any single man in the world that terrifies me, it's most certainly him," he said warningly. Eerin held slightly tighter to him. The thought of something scaring _Darcy_, who was so strong and resilient, sent shivers down her spine. "He used to give me nightmares when I was a young boy and I spent my holidays at their estate. His wife, Lucinda, isn't much better. They both have these delusions of class and rank that drives their every thought. It's unimaginable to think that Richard came from such a family," he commented thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I don't think your family are going to like me," Eerin declared suddenly.

"They don't need to like you, they need to respect that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with," he shrugged, turning to regard her with a small smile. She felt a familiar warm glow deep in her stomach that came whenever he spoke of such things. "I plan on making an honourable woman out of you in a year or so, you know. So they'll have to know about you sometime soon," he added simply. Eerin felt blood rush to her cheeks.

"Well, you're certainly cocky. Who said I'd have you?" she challenged, arching a brow. Darcy laughed, and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Touché, my dear," he chuckled. "I don't want to get married quite yet. I want to enjoy what we have now, but it's in the near future," he assured her. She nodded and rolled over on her back, shifting her head to rest against his outspread arm.

"How can you be so sure about me?" she asked suddenly. Darcy didn't respond, so she turned her head to watch his face carefully.

He was staring back out at the window, and looked rather thoughtful. She wanted to ask him the question again, but something told her that he _had_ heard, but he was considering his answer.

"I've been running on autopilot for eighteen years," he said suddenly. "You can't know the absolute... agony that takes you when you become an orphan. I forced myself to live for Ana for almost two decades, because she was suddenly my child, my responsibility, and I wasn't going to lose her," he said slowly, his voice measured and steady, as if his words had been well considered. "And until you walked into my classroom I never realised how miserable these past years have been. You came to be what Ana had been to me when I thought I just didn't want to live. You make me... _happy_," he explained finally.

Eerin nodded against his arm and then slid back into his embrace, kissing his skin as she thought on his words.

"Sometimes I don't understand how you make me feel. It's really scary, did you know?" she questioned. He gave her a soft smile as he turned to her and nodded. "I think I've loved you for a long time. It's been growing somewhere in the back of my head for months, but all of a sudden you kissed me, and – and everything just exploded. I knew you were the only person I could ever consider spending the rest of my life with pretty much from that moment on," she explained, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Well, I guess I knew I couldn't live the rest of my life without feeling the way you make me feel again," she finished quietly.

"I knew it. You fell for my charms," he declared smugly, reclining back comfortably in bed. Eerin snorted in laughter.

"Bull shit. You're so full of yourself," he laughed, leaning over and ruffling his dark hair. He chuckled, and took her hand, pressing a small kiss to her knuckles.

"Thank you. It means a lot for you to say that to me," he practically murmured. Eerin shrugged off her blush.

"Yeah, well, I'm cool like that," she replied teasingly. Darcy rolled his eyes and hid a smirk.

"Of course. Hungry?"

"Yup. Didn't eat much today," she admitted, sitting up.

"No, you can relax, I owe it to you at least to make you dinner," Darcy insisted, sliding out of bed.

"I never eat dinner when I'm naked. So you're seriously going to cook?" she questioned doubtfully. He looked moderately offended.

"I can cook."

"You can cook steak sandwiches, and being a vegetarian, I have no use for steak sandwiches," she retorted. He looked thoughtful.

"I can make some things," he defended. She raised a brow. "I'll make you a cup of tea and pop down the road to the take away shop," he decided. Eerin laughed as she lay back on the bed.

"That sounds like the man I know," she sniggered. "I don't mind cooking, you know," she offered. He shook his head.

"No, I'm marching down to the shops and asking in an annoyingly loud and obnoxious voice for the best post-sex meal option they have," he said firmly. Eerin bit back a laugh as she sat up once more.

"Bugger you, you're not. I'm going with you, and you are _not_ asking for post-sex food," she insisted, picking up her clothes and pulling them back on.

"You and I both know that's not wise, and you're no fun," he challenged. She rolled her eyes.

"So what if we're seen? We're just a student and a teacher who bumped into each other in a shop," she shrugged, picking up one of his abandoned jumpers, pulling the sleeves up so they didn't swamp her small figure. In truth, she didn't want to leave him. Not after what had passed between them, even though her body was reminding her with a few sharp pains that lying around in bed for a few hours would really be the best thing. But no, she wanted to be near him, to hold him, to remind herself that he was real.

"You wear my clothes more than I do," he frowned, but there was an amused sparkle in his eyes. She smirked.

"I look better in them. Come on then, grab your shoes, this isn't the western suburbs," she instructed. Darcy rolled his eyes, and ruffled her dark hair.

"I love you, you know," he informed her, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Whipped much?" she retorted teasingly. He laughed as she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her bag.

There was something undoubtedly charming about Sydney in the early evening. It was just something about the way the light came in during those bright minutes before sunset that made it quite a magical place to be. Darcy couldn't help but think of how lucky he was as he and Eerin walked down the road to a small café on the corner of one of the many terribly fashionable streets where they had eaten once or twice. It was reasonably crowded for a Monday night, but the food was always worth it. After Darcy ordered they drifted to the wide opening doors to wait for their meal to arrive before they would walk back up to his flat.

"You look nervous," she commented, glancing to him. He was sunken into the shadows, and he cast his eyes across the street with anxiety.

"I just don't want us to be seen together."

"They don't know anything."

"People talk. Talk creates problems," he muttered. Eerin laughed.

"Paranoid much? We're two people in the same café. Lighten up, babe," she smiled. He nodded and sighed.

"I'm being ridiculous, I know. I just don't wa –"

"Darcy?"

Darcy turned immediately upon hearing his name from the street. He swallowed.

"Laura," he practically murmured.

Eerin whipped her head around immediately. The woman addressing her boyfriend was tall and slender, about thirty years of age, with creamy light brown skin and big black eyes, and long dark hair pulled into a sensible bun. She looked rather elegant in a turquoise pea coat and black leggings, the picture of refined attractiveness.

She felt her chest tighten as the woman laughed and immediately pulled Darcy into a hug and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I can't _believe_ I'm seeing you here! I mean, I only flew in for the week, and I didn't know if I should call you! I was just at your flat, but you weren't in," she explained quickly, in a lovely English accent. Eerin turned away sharply and headed to the counter when she heard their order being called. She paid and gave her thankyous as she took the food, wishing that woman would be gone when she returned.

But her wish was to no avail. _Laura_ was still standing there, looking perfectly lovely as she spoke rapidly to Darcy, who looked to be in some sort of state of disbelief.

"Are you busy? I was going to get dinner at the hotel, but if you're not doing anything..." she trailed off, just as Eerin approached. Darcy sent her a short glance, as if to gage her emotions.

"I'm actually... _we're_ actually just going to head home," he muttered quietly, looking around nervously to see who was listening. The woman's large black eyes shifted from Darcy to Eerin with doubt.

"Oh. Well why don't I buy you two a coffee? There's so much we have to catch up on," she offered, but her eyes were still glued to Eerin, a frown growing on her face. She finally looked back to Darcy with concern. "Either I've lost my mind, or Ana has certainly changed, Darcy," she said, with a nervous laugh. Eerin said nothing. They were in public – they couldn't afford to make explanations.

"Why don't you come over for a cup of tea, Laura. We can't really talk much here," Darcy said between gritted teeth. Laura beamed immediately and linked arms with him.

"Excellent! Well then, let's go!" she said eagerly, as they stepped back onto the street. Darcy cast a desperate glance over to Eerin, but she was keeping her expression purposefully blank. She was trying to formulate some sort of plan, but she had no idea what to do or to say.

Luckily, Laura had quite a mouth on her, and had no problems with talking the whole walk back to the flat. Darcy, for his part, did not look happy. He nodded tersely as she rambled on, trying desperately to meet Eerin's eye, but she kept her gaze downturned.

"Oh, this is lovely. Very _you_, Darcy," Laura declared as they stepped into the living room. Eerin scampered immediately into the kitchen and put the bag from the café on the bench before she disappeared into the bedroom without another word.

She didn't want to look at that woman. She had no idea what to do, what to say. She just wanted that woman to go away and to never come back, to never wonder who was the young girl who had said nothing on the walk back to the flat.

"Well she's interesting," she could hear Laura state dryly from the living room.

"What are you doing in Sydney?" Darcy questioned immediately. Eerin was somewhat comforted with the brisk tone of his voice.

"Who is she, Darcy?"

"None of your business. What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I'm a guest lecturer for the week at Macquarie University. I'm staying in the city 'til Sunday," she replied simply. "So, you're doing well. You have your own class here, I heard. How's that going?" she enquired. Eerin could hear the sounds of the kettle being filled and boiled.

"Good. Fine. I'm surprised you bothered to try to speak to me again. We didn't exactly part on good terms, if you recall," he challenged curtly.

"That's why I wanted to see you again. Is she just the maid, or am I too late?" she questioned curiously.

"You never had a chance. I'm not interested in anything you have to offer, Laura. It was over quite some time ago," he said firmly.

"Found someone better, I take?"

"None of your business," he said curtly.

"Hmm, is the great Dr. Darcy of Pemberley in love with the silent mouse?" she asked curiously, her voice revealing she was amused. Eerin bristled with anger. How _dare_ she?

"You know I hate being called 'Doctor', Laura. Some people don't need pretentious titles," he snapped.

"She's cute. And I mean cute as in a fourteen-year-old. Tell me you're not sleeping with a minor, Darcy," she practically demanded.

"She's not a minor, and she's none of your concern. Perhaps you'd best leave," he said finally.

Eerin heard nothing for a moment. She strived to listen closer, but all was silent for a good thirty seconds.

"You used to love me, Darcy."

"I used to think I did. I don't know why you came here, Laura, but there's no place in my life for you," he returned immediately.

"Well, can I meet her?"

"No."

Eerin was somehow bristling with anger at that. She scowled indignantly. Who was Darcy to tell her who she could and could not meet? She jumped to her feet immediately and pulled open the door, stepping into the room.

Laura and Darcy both turned to her with surprise. She stopped after three steps and looked between them.

"It's nice to meet you, dear. I'm Laura, and you are?" she questioned immediately, stepping forwards with an outstretched hand. Eerin shook it with hesitation, her eyes locked onto Darcy, who was shaking his head firmly.

"Rin," was all she answered, before her hand was released. She immediately walked over to Darcy with questioning eyes. He looked apologetic as he slipped his hand into hers.

"Oh, she's just as shy as you, Darcy! So, tell me a little about yourself," Laura requested almost greedily. Darcy shifted Eerin behind him slightly, as if he were shielding her from Laura.

"Laura, she's got nothing to do with you. Now please, I'm trying my best to be polite, but I think it's best you left," he practically growled. Laura didn't look offended, but perhaps a little disappointed. She still stared curiously at Eerin.

"Alright, of course. I suppose I'll see you two around," she said finally, picking up her purse from the sideboard. She cast one last confused glance between the two before leaving the flat in silence.

Darcy released a long, slow sigh of relief the moment she was gone.

"That's a pretty weird coincidence," Eerin muttered as he turned into her, and she slipped her arms around his waist, her head against his chest.

"I don't believe in coincidences. Laura knew exactly what she was doing, coming to visit me without warning like this," he almost growled into her dark hair.

"Do you think she suspects something?"

"Most definitely. I wish you hadn't given her your name," he sighed, his hands moving to her shoulders.

"I just gave her 'Rin', and it'd be too suspicious if I _didn't_ give her a name," she insisted. She felt Darcy nod against her.

"I know. I'm sorry, it's just... that woman unnerves me," he shrugged simply.

"She'll be gone in a week."

"Laura has an awful ability to hang around, Eerin. I hope you never discover that for yourself," he said finally, pulling away from her and moving into the kitchen, pouring the now boiled water into a large black teapot. Eerin watched him in silence.

"Do you still like her?" she asked softly.

He stopped pouring, and put the kettle down on the bench. He looked to her with an unreadable expression.

"I'm going to say no, Eerin, and ask you never to ask me that question again. Do you understand?" he said replied quietly, his voice gravitating with force and sincerity. She nodded weakly, feeling so impossibly small before him, and all of a sudden, it was as if the distance of half a dozen feet between them was really a hundred thousand kilometres, and she was only a pinprick of light in his shadow.

"I'm sorry."

"No. No, you're not, and you have no reason to be. But I can only love one person at once, it's the way I'm made," he explained, stepping forwards. His strides seemed to span oceans, but before she knew it he was right before her, his hands around her waist. "I won't lie. I'm worried about what's going to happen, especially now that Laura's turned up. But it's important you remember that I completely and totally adore you, Eerin Beaumont," he finished softly, leaning gently forwards and pressing a small, soft kiss to the crown of her head. Eerin buried herself in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist as if that alone could change things.

"What's going to happen?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. She might ask about you to Carol, but I hope not," he answered simply.

"What would happen if someone found out? Someone from the university?"

"I'll lose my job, and quite probably my license to teach. If the press found out, my reputation as a scholar would probably be worth nothing, as well," he shrugged, resting his chin atop her head.

"I'm sorry. I should have stayed in the flat, I shouldn't have –"

"Eerin, please. You couldn't have known," he assured her gently, before giving a long sigh. "Come on then, I'm famished, and your tea will get cold," he smiled, pressing one last kiss to her forehead and then releasing her.

Eerin couldn't help but feel completely, utterly guilty as she watched the man whose life she might have ruined.

"I'm sorry," she whispered very quietly. Darcy gave her a comforting smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Don't be. We'll manage."

Somehow, that still didn't assure her.

**A/N: Alors. I GOT INTO THE UNIVERSITY OF SYDNEY. Fuck yeah. **

**Forgive my language. **

**So, what we've all been waiting for, this is a bit of a bittersweet chapter, but don't worry, it won't be complete and **_**utter**_** misery for a while. Just moderate chaos. Please review, my lovelies :D**


	28. Of Shopping and Sorrys

"_Tell me all you know,_

_What was that old story you told?_

_Yeah, I know it's late, but these times won't wait,"_

-Firekites, 'Autumn'

"So? How did it go with Darcy? You were so mysterious over the phone," Carol said eagerly the moment Laura descended to the table outside a fashionable Martin Place café, the picture of elegance in a perfectly pressed Burberry trench and new season Bally boots.

"I came halfway across the world to run into Darcy and his new squeeze on a date. I never would have accepted the university's position if I'd have known it was going to be worthless for me to come here," she snapped pointedly, scowling as she snatched up the menu. Carol frowned.

"Darcy's single."

"No, Darcy's got a live-in girlfriend who barely said a word to me," she returned, her dark eyes flashing angrily. "Carol, you told me he was single and he missed me. Whatever game you were playing didn't work, he probably thinks I'm some sort of clingy hussy who can't find another man," she snapped at her old friend. Carol looked moderately offended, but for the most part, utterly confused.

"Well who was she?" she demanded. Laura scoffed, and shrugged.

"A little mouse of a thing. She looked like a fourteen-year-old boy, said her name was 'Kim' or something like that," she practically grunted, clicking her fingers demandingly as a waitress hurried out to meet her. "Latte, please, with a shot of caramel," she demanded curtly.

"I don't know anyone... wait, did she have very long dark hair?" Carol questioned suddenly. Laura shook her head.

"No, it was really short."

Carol breathed a sigh of relief. "It's not Eerin Beaumont then. He had a bit of a crush on her a few months ago, but I'm quite sure he's over her now," she said with a pleased sort of smile.

"Eerin? No, that's definitely not the name she gave me. I got the impression she didn't speak a word of English, actually, from the way she was acting. She might have been..." she trailed off, before stopping. "He was very shy about it. Didn't want me poking my nose into it at all, she could be... an 'escort'," she suggested quietly. Carol's eyes widened.

"Well, his cousin _did_ marry a stripper," she muttered, before shaking her head. "No, he's too noble, and it's not like he couldn't find another woman who would do that for free," she said in a low voice. Carol couldn't help but think how much she would _love_ to be the one to help fight his loneliness.

It was all a part of her master plan, to be honest. Get Darcy and Laura back together, and they would fall apart within a month, they were so impossibly ill-suited to each other. And who would be there to comfort him when that fell apart? Who would be there to convince him to return to England, where he belonged? Not this god-forsaken country where the heat could melt you into a puddle and the cold went right through every fibre of your being.

"Well it doesn't matter, because he's _not_ interested. I don't know why I came here," Laura muttered bitterly.

"Because you _missed_ me?" Carol suggested pointedly. Laura rolled her eyes.

"Well what are you even doing still here? Come back to England with me, this is no place for you," she practically commanded. Carol sighed, and sipped her coffee.

"I can't. My brother's wedding is in a week, he's marrying some stupid backwater tart he knocked up," she replied miserably.

"Well, after the wedding then."

"I'll think about it," Carol assured her, but in her mind she knew she wasn't going anywhere til she had Darcy.

"Alright then, well, after I get my coffee we'll go shopping. I need something to take my mind off this mess," she declared dramatically, running a hand through her perfectly styled dark hair with a wearied sigh.

Carol was lost in her thoughts. One question was running around in her head...

Who was the girl?

* * *

Eerin yawned as she shifted slightly. She and Darcy lay horizontally on his sofa, he looking devilishly attractive with his reading glasses as he scanned the contents of an essay held in his hand, she curled up beside him with her head on his chest as his fingers lazily toyed with her short brown hair.

"This is good. Excellent structure, but you went off on a bit of a tangent about the mandala," Darcy informed her, lowering the essay he held in his hand and scribbling a mark on the top.

"I'm a fan of tangents," she replied lazily, reaching for the essay. He chuckled, and tossed it to the coffee table, out of her reach.

"No. You can wait till class," he informed her with a teasing smile. She scoffed, and rolled her eyes.

"You bully. I might as well go home now, you're being so cruel," she stated pointedly. Darcy laughed as he slipped his arms around her waist, and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"You wouldn't spoil your sister's shopping trip," he retorted smugly. She looked thoughtful for a second.

"Yeah… that's true. Shut up, stupid face," she sniggered, turning to meet his lips in a firm kiss. "Speaking of which, what's the plan for tomorrow?" she questioned, as he shifted to lie atop her, pressing his lips to her neck as she wound her hands into his dark hair.

"You arrive ten minutes earlier than I do, and we pretend we weren't shagging half an hour before we meet Chase and Jan," he shrugged simply, pushing the sleave of her shirt off her shoulder, and kissing the soft flesh he revealed there. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"That addition to the plan wasn't necessary, bub," she informed him quite seriously. He scoffed.

"When I'm on top of you, everything is necessary," he retorted simply. Eerin laughed into his dark hair.

"Did you talk to Chase yet?" she asked gently, after a few delicious moments had passed. He grunted with irritation and removed his lips from her collarbone.

"Nothing more than mumbling that I 'might as well be the best-man, because all his friends were still in England'," he drawled, sliding off her to lie against her side, one hand pressed possessively to the side of her ribs, rubbing small, invisible circles against her skin. "I don't think he knows, though. He seemed worried that we wouldn't get along," he added with a thoughtful frown, staring with glassy eyes out the late window of the top story flat.

He didn't have to be specific. She knew what he was referring to – it was unspoken and unacknowledged, it was something that no longer passed between them. Those sorts of conversations were swallowed up with kisses, clandestine embraces and secret, ambiguous slips of paper passed between them. After Eerin's post-it confession, notes and letters were now perfectly normal for them; everything from quick little 'I love yous' between classes, to long, winding love letters. Most of them were ambiguous and yet strangely romantic, and pressed into each other's hands when a kiss would be too much of a risk.

Eerin saved all those letters, and he slipped those that she had sent into his Moleskine. Some of his letters were so beautiful she wanted them tattooed on her skin.

_E,_

_Sometimes I feel that every second I have spent without your touch must be compensated. I want to split my life into sections, and meet each moment that I did not know you with a moment where I have held you, kissed you, embraced you and loved you. I will have known you for little over half my life, and you will know me for almost all of yours. I have never envied your youth more._

_-D_

Hers weren't quite as romantic, but the sentiment remained.

_D,_

_I'm not the artist between us, but there is a line of your throat that I've copied on every surface of notepaper I have in this classroom. Your throat is beautiful. I want to draw a picture of the movement of your Adam's Apple when I kiss it. Why is it called that? You've told me stories about the Garden of Eden as if you've been there – tell me the story of Adam's throat._

_-E_

They never said the word 'affair'; even though it had been looming from the moment Laura had spotted them on the street. Eerin hated that she had been allowed into that secret little bubble they had used to protect themselves – because just her mere presence, her judgement, had tainted it. Had spoilt it. It was no longer a blossoming relationship, it as a clandestine _affair_. But they never said that, not to each other; but it was always there, a niggling sort of thought in the back of their heads.

Eerin buried her head into his chest.

"Tell me a story," she demanded of him. He chuckled. It was not the first time she had demanded a story from him, and it would not be the last time he told her one. It was one of the things she loved about him, that he was so full of knowledge that mystified and educated her.

It was another thing that went unsaid between them, because, like the word 'affair', it made their relationship seem unhealthy. Because it had a tendency to become an education for both of them. He taught her to be mature, whilst she taught him to be young. But somehow, a relationship, any relationship when one received more than just love would always be seen as unhealthy. Was it so terrible that one of the reasons why she loved him was because he could teach her so much? But because of their ages, their positions, this only seemed to cheapen what they felt for each other.

"I'm going to tell you about the minotaur," he began, with the air of one beginning a wonderfully exciting tale. She wrapped her arms tightly around his chest, and his hand moved down to the place between where her ribs ended and her hips began. This is when she loved him the most, when he was comfortable, when he was eager to educate her in a private sense of intimacy that differed from the classroom. It wasn't physical, because that would always come later; it was something bigger than that.

"I love you, you know," she interrupted him suddenly as he spoke of how King Minos of Crete had imprisoned the minotaur in the labyrinth below his palace.

"Hmm. Yes, I know," he smiled, bestowing a gentle kiss on the base of her neck.

"Good. Well, as long as you know," she murmured, before settling back comfortably to hear the rest of the story.

* * *

"Oh, Darcy, thank God you're here! Rinny and I were worried you might not show up!" Jan exclaimed as Darcy strolled up to meet the trio as they sipped tea on the corner of Martin Place. Eerin shivered slightly as he sent her a small smile with only his eyes, before that turned into a concerned glance to Chase, who refused to meet the eye of his friend.

"Sorry," he muttered, giving no explanation as he sat down next to Eerin.

"Oh, have you hurt yourself?" Jan questioned with surprise, spotting a patch of bruised red skin on the side of his neck, just visible where his collar dipped. He raised a hand to his neck compulsively.

"No, it's nothing," he assured her with a gentle smile, hazarding a slight glance to the young woman by his side, who gave a knowing grin. To save an awkward conversation, Darcy turned to Jan.

"You're looking quite radiant, how far along are you now?" he questioned her politely. She flushed at his compliment.

"You're so sweet, about three months now," she answered delightedly, placing a hand on her perfectly flat stomach. "I'm just glad I'm not starting to show yet, it would have made finding a wedding dress quite difficult," she laughed, raising her cup of tea to her mouth.

"So what's the plan for today?" Darcy questioned, glancing to Chase, who ignored him, as usual.

"Oh, well, we have a lot to do. We're going to Myer for the gift registry, and then we have to stop by the travel agent to finalise the honeymoon details, and then the caterer, and then the cake samples, and then we have to go all the way over to Katoomba to the Carrington. We'll be having the reception there," Jan began, producing a list before her. "But we also have to get Eerin a dress, which is what I'm worried about. I don't know if we're going to have enough time with everything we have to do today," she added thoughtfully, chewing her bottom lip and glancing to her sister.

"I'll take her. We don't need to be there for the gift registry or the travel agent, so I can help her find a dress, and then we'll meet you at the caterers," Darcy shrugged simply. Jan looked to him in surprise, and even Chase blinked for a moment.

"A – Are you sure?" Jan questioned carefully.

"That would probably work best, Jan. You don't need our opinions until the caterer, so we can kill a morning looking for my dress," Eerin threw in with a smile that looked forced, but in actuality, was a thin veil for her delight.

"You don't have to, you know," Jan assured the pair, looking with concern between them. Darcy shrugged.

"We'll survive, I'm sure," he said politely. Jan glanced at her list.

"Well, that would be... wonderful. The appointment at the caterer is for one, and we'll have lunch there," she beamed, folding up her list and slipping it into her bag.

"Great! We'll we'd probably best head off, you know how picky I am about dresses," Eerin declared, rising from her chair. Chase met Darcy's eye for just a second, before he moved to sit closer to his fiancée.

"You have the address for the –"

"Yes, I have everything, I'll see you at one, Janni-Panni," she smiled, picking up her unisex tanned leather satchel.

"Good luck," Darcy muttered, but he was already following Eerin through the street. "You little minx, you left before I woke up," he accused her with a low growl as they passed through crowds of people.

"You were completely zonked out," she laughed in return. He rolled his eyes.

"As I recall, _someone_ kept me up all night," he returned. She blushed slightly, and shrugged her lithe shoulders.

"Like the look? I doubt anyone would recognise me at all," she replied airily, doing a small twirl on the spot. Unrecognisable was an understatement. She wore a pair of black trousers with a collared white business shirt, a short tie and a black blazer. With her short hair and masculine outfit, she really did look like a boy at first glance. A very petite and pretty boy, but a boy none the less.

"Is this because you rented _Coco Avant Chanel_?" he questioned with a frown. She giggled.

"Maybe."

Darcy sighed, and shook his head slightly, chuckling.

"Are all your clothes like this?" he questioned, giving her another glance. She looked thoughtful.

"Pretty much. You've seen most of my clothes, anyway," she replied, digging her hands into her pockets, her nails for once devoid of any strange and luminous polish. "Pourquoi?" she retorted with an airy sense of teasing curiosity. He shrugged.

"I was just thinking that we might need to get you some new clothes today, for England."

Even though she was dressed like a boy, she still looked utterly fetching when she quirked a brow in silent question.

"I got an email confirming our tickets from the airport this morning," he informed her with a small smile.

"Then we have to start telling people. Can't run off to another country with you without explaining it to my parents," she grinned simply. Darcy's smile grew. He wanted to reach for her hand, he wanted to kiss her, but they were in a crowded street, and it was simply too risky.

"I want to tell Chase. And I want to have a word with your father, too," he said simply. Eerin nodded.

"Not Mum. As much as I love her, I don't think she'd be able to keep her mouth shut for long," she decided firmly, as they slipped through the crowds at a safe distance from each other.

"What will your mother think, to hear you're going off to France and England?" he questioned with surprise. He didn't disagree with her, because he'd briefly met Mrs Beaumont and he didn't think she was going to be able to hold her tongue in the slightest, but he didn't want to admit that and offend Eerin.

"I won't tell her. I'll just say I'm going on a trip, and not mention you," she deduced simply. Darcy sighed.

"I'd rather if you didn't lie to her."

"William, it's not like we have a choice," she retorted with a shrug.

He nodded simply, before stopping at the intersection, and pulling out his iPhone.

"I know Ana's favourite dress shops, but I have no idea what you're looking for. Where are we going?" he questioned, pulling up a Street View map.

"Um, I don't know. I'm not fussy; Jan wants something sophisticated but simple, in a pale pink, and I guess I need shoes, too," she shrugged simply, peering over his shoulder. "What does Ana like?" she questioned curiously. Darcy chuckled.

"My little princess? I took her to her first Haute Couture when she was twelve," he answered. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"Well, deprived old me, I only buy off the rack," she drawled. Darcy smiled.

"Hmm. Perhaps we'll wander over to Elizabeth Street then," he theorised with a teasing grin. Eerin scoffed.

"We'll go to David Jones first, _I _think. There's a Sass & Bide dress I saw a few weeks ago that might work," she decided firmly, exiting the map as if to make a specific point to Darcy.

"It'll do for a start, but we've got all morning, my dear," he smiled, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"Good lord, I'm terrified already," she sighed. Darcy only flashed a teasing grin, and led her across the intersection.

Shopping with Darcy was surprisingly fun. He had a good knowledge of fashion, having been dragged around by Ana for the past eighteen years, but he was very firm with what he wanted, and making sure that the shop assistants knew what they were doing.

"Primarily we're looking for a bridesmaid's dress and shoes, but we really need a full wardrobe. Dresses, trousers, blouses, shoes, lingerie, the lot," he informed the slightly intimidated young assistant in a very 'no-nonsense' tone.

"Well, uh, what kind of dress would the young lady be requiring?" the questioned dutifully, although she was probably only a scarce few years older than Eerin herself.

"Pale pink. Ignore him, please," she requested, nudging Darcy, who rolled his eyes.

"We're here to get a wardrobe that's a bit more suitable than your current attire, as reluctant as you are to giving up your 'I'm a pre-pubescent boy' look," he reminded her, turning back to the assistant.

"Well, sir, if you'll come this way, we can start with the lingerie section," she declared. Eerin raised a brow at Darcy, who only followed the assistant through the large department store, where beautiful people traipsed around in a dazzling array of vanity.

"Oh dear," she hummed warily to herself, reluctantly following her lover, sure that the next few hours were going to be a painful business.

"Now. We've had a lot of lovely, feminine, vintage designs coming through this season with labels like Crystelle, Lonely Hearts and Roberta Glass. Would this be to your taste?" the assistant offered, leading them to an array of beautiful pastel lace lingerie that was reminiscent of the 1940s. Eerin felt a little offended that the woman seemed to be posing the question to Darcy, rather than her, but said nothing.

"Yes, I think this is what we're looking at," he decided firmly, turning to Eerin. "What do you like?" he questioned, gesturing before him.

"Seriously? Will, I don't need –"

"Please, for my sake, let me spoil you for once. What do you like?" he repeated, taking the risk and reaching for her hand.

"Um, I kind of like these. They're pretty cute," she said finally, blushing as she pointed to a set of Collette Dinnigan silk boylegs and bra. Darcy gave her hand a quick squeeze.

"Good. Now what else?" he questioned. Eerin couldn't help but laugh. They ended up walking away with four new bras and several sets of underwear and boylegs before Darcy finally gave in, and they made their way through to sleepwear, and then to women's clothing.

Eerin tried to feel guilty. She really did. But Darcy always made it seem like she was granting him a favour by allowing him to buy her beautiful things she didn't seem to need.

"Thank you, Angela. If you could have what we've selected so far delivered to my apartment, that would be wonderful," Darcy said to the assistant with one of his rarely seen charming smiles. She blushed, and nodded immediately.

"Of course, sir, we would be happy to arrange that for you. Now, if you would like to move on to the evening wear for the young lady?" she suggested, moving deeper through the departments.

"You're such a manipulator," Eerin hissed, fighting a laugh as the couple followed the assistant.

"Years of experience dealing with the combination of Ana and pushy assistants – you develop skills," he shrugged with a tiny hint of a playful smile.

Picking the right dress was the difficult part of the three or four hours they spent in the department store. Darcy had an opinion on everything, _Angela_ had an opinion on everything, even people simply passing through with their shopping felt it necessary to comment.

"Oh, no dear, that dress makes you look _very_ short," an older woman decided to put in as Eerin appeared in a full-length pearl-coloured gown.

"I _am_ short anyway," Eerin grumbled, turning round straight back to the changing rooms.

"Yes, she'll need a lot of heels, I think," Angela whispered to Darcy.

"She's sensitive about her lack of height. But shoes are next," he agreed quietly.

"I heard that!" Eerin called through the door.

"You know, I might actually have the perfect dress for her. Something sweet and very feminine," Angela exclaimed suddenly. Just as Eerin was pulling her clothes on, prepared to go op shopping for a damn dress, the door opened and Darcy slipped in with a dusty pink dress held in one hand.

"You're not supposed to be in there," she reminded him pointedly. He rolled his eyes.

"Put this one on. We have shoes to match," he directed, hanging the dress up on the hook on the back of the door. He shot her a small smile, as of out of sympathy. "I'm sorry. I have to be stubborn about these things when Ana's concerned, because she's so stubborn herself. We're almost finished here," he assured her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek and leaving the room again.

Eerin sighed. She did love him, even if he was a bit annoying.

She knew the dress was perfect the moment she stepped out of the change rooms to see Darcy sitting on one of the provided sofas, his mouth falling slightly at the image she presented. The EY Wada dress was reasonably simple, and fell to her knees. It had a dusty pink silk bust that scooped low, leaving half her shoulders and a fair amount of cleavage exposed, with delicate capped sleaves and a sweet bow to decorate the displayed décolletage, and then the skirt was a loosely flowing lighter pink silk that hung perfectly around her body. The colour looked very delicate and feminine with her pale skin, but she would need something to lighten the intensity of her dark hair. Darcy had apparently thought ahead, and she was immediately confronted with a pair of pearl coloured Tony Bianco kitten heels and a beautiful lace bow for her hair.

"You look stunning," he informed her with a smile as she stood in front of the mirror. He took his place behind her, resting his hands on her forearms. She sighed comfortably.

"Do I look like the kind of woman you could take to England?" she challenged. He laughed, and gave a small nod. She rolled her eyes, but she did feel... maybe a little more sophisticated already. She knew that Darcy didn't want to change her; he just wanted her to fit in with his family. She appreciated his concern and his attentiveness, because she knew that it meant something to him, to be able to spoil her so. He needed to be needed in that way.

Thousands of dollars later they emerged, Darcy seeming quite pleased with himself already.

"I can't believe you just spent so much money on me," Eerin growled. He chuckled.

"You can find a way to thank me later. I think some of those purchases could be involved, particularly the lingerie," he said suggestively. She rolled her dark eyes.

"Seriously. You spent a _lot_ of money in there," she stated, before they fully stepped out onto the street. Darcy shrugged.

"This is going to sound _terribly_ arrogant, but I didn't, not really. I've spent more on one dress for Ana, and I would be prepared to pay ten times that if you asked me," he stated simply. Eerin sighed, and dug her hands into her pockets.

"We're so different, you know," she murmured, before giving a strained smile. "I just... it kind of makes me feel like I'm your..." she sighed, unable to find the words. She lowered her dark eyes sheepishly.

"You can say it, you know," he prodded gently. She gave another sigh.

"It kind of makes me feel like I'm your whore. Or your mistress, or something," she said quietly, so quietly he almost didn't hear.

"Oh..." Darcy murmured in surprise. "Well, you're not, if that's any consolation. I would never see you that way," he insisted. He couldn't reach for her, because it was too dangerous, but he wanted to hold her, to assure her of his affections.

"I know. I just get a little insecure sometimes," she shrugged, flashing him another weak smile. "Alright, we'd best go. I'll find a way to thank you later, in a completely non-whorish, but slightly slutty way," she promised, winking at him as she put on her sunglasses. Darcy chuckled, knowing that her light heartedness meant that her moment of insecurity was gone.

"Come on then, I forgot to look at bags. You'll need luggage for France and England," he instructed, leading her back through the street, ignoring her groans of protest.

Another several thousand dollars later, they had dropped off their recent purchases at the flat, and met with a delivery man from the first department store. By twelve-thirty their bedroom was absolutely covered with bags and boxes and packages of all shapes and sizes, full of clothes and shoes and lingerie and jewellery and handbags, everything Darcy had spotted that he thought she might like. And much to her surprise, there were things there she hadn't even recalled seeing in the shops they'd entered.

"Well, I knew your sizes, so I added a few things as we went," he shrugged simply, as he checked that everything had arrived.

"I would yell at you, but at the moment I'm just going to hug Louis," she declared, sitting before her new set of Louis Vuitton luggage, and wrapping her arms around it tightly. "'_Oh Louis... you are so pretty... so beautiful..._'" she sung playfully. Darcy couldn't help but shake his head at the image she presented. "And the sad thing is, I don't even care if I feel like I'm your whore now. I have Louis. Nothing else matters," she grinned.

"You're so ridiculous," Darcy laughed. She beamed, and nodded.

"Yeah. I am," she agreed, jumping up to her feet, and pressing a firm kiss to Darcy's mouth. "I don't need all of these things, you know," she told him quite plainly. He smiled, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You've never asked me for anything, you know?" he said suddenly. She looked thoughtful.

"No, I guess you're right," she nodded. He pushed back a strand of her dark hair with gentle fingers, before tracing the shape of her jaw and lips.

"And because of that, I would give you anything you wanted with a snap of the fingers. You're the only person in the world who doesn't expect a single thing from me, so that's why I'm so happy to give it," he explained delicately. She blushed, feeling as if she had passed some sort of unstated test of his love.

"Did Laura –"

"Forever dragging me all over London, demanding this and that and everything. She had very expensive whims," he informed her, already sensing her unanswered question. She was about to ask him if he had heard anything about Laura's return to England before he glanced to the clock, and announced that they needed to be leaving.

Jan was delighted with Eerin's dress and shoes, and thanked Darcy incessantly for accompanying her dress shopping. The caterer and cake samples went well, and Darcy and Eerin went with the couple to the Carrington Hotel where the reception was going to be held. It was lucky for all involved that Jan was in such a talkative mood, as the tension between Chase and Darcy was growing to a point where it was almost unbearable.

"You have to do something about it," Eerin said simply to Darcy as they headed to the car while Chase and Jan finished up in the hotel.

"I know. I just can't... He's always busy, or off doing something with Jannali. He won't sit still for a minute," he grumbled bitterly, sticking his hands into his pockets.

"You two can't be like this at the wedding. It's even starting to upset Jan," she objected. "Just grab him and make him listen to you! He beat you up for goodness sake, what more could happen?" she questioned incredulously.

"I know. I _know_. I'll try again," he muttered, glancing back up to the beautiful building.

"I think he just wants your support and your blessing. Jan told me his parents aren't thrilled about the wedding, especially not with the baby on the way, so I think he'll really want you there," she said gently, reaching for his hand. He nodded silently, and entwined his fingers in hers. He raised her hand to his lips to press a kiss against her knuckles.

"I'll do my best, but humility isn't my strong point," he admitted somewhat sheepishly. She laughed, and kissed him before the couple emerged from the hotel.

Darcy was true to his word. He tapped his former friend on the shoulder as they all entered Chase and Jan's flat so Eerin could try on her dress for Jan.

"Could we have a word?" he requested quietly. Chase scowled.

"Define 'a word'?" he challenged, his voice cool.

"Please, Chase. Let's just go for a walk, I have to speak with you," he insisted. Chase's frown grew, but after a moment's thought he nodded, and moved over to Jan, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"We'll just be a few minutes, sweetheart," he informed her, before depositing a kiss on her cheek and leading Darcy out of the flat, not a word passing between them as they walked through the streets of Sydney, the slowly setting sun casting a golden glow off St. Marys chapel.

"Well."

"Well.

"So."

"So."

"Chase, are we going to go back and forth all afternoon?" Darcy sighed, turning to his friend with an exasperated sigh. Chase's eyes were glued to the ground beneath his feet, and he dug his hands almost petulantly into his trouser pockets.

"You asked _me_ to go for a walk, not the other way round. I told you that you could be my best man, what more do you want?" he snapped curtly. Darcy sighed.

"Chase, we've been friends since you skipped up to me like an eager little puppy on your first day at Harrow," he began. Chase nodded as they seated themselves on the large stone steps outside the chapel. "You've said more than once that you respect my opinion more than your own. And somewhere along the way I abused that respect, and I've very sorry for it," he sighed, running his hand through his dark hair.

"You did. And you almost made me abandon my fiancée and child because you were too bloody –" Chase stopped, and continued to glare at the ground. "I love her, Darcy, and I think you knew that. I admit I was stupid and spineless, but that's only because you..." he huffed, and cast his eyes across the road, the park, the tall city buildings, anything but his companion. "It's only because you've been the best friend I've ever had. You've been more than that. You've been almost a father to me, and ever since we met you _know_ I'd do anything to make you proud of me, and yet you _really_ hurt me, Darcy," he muttered bitterly.

Darcy sighed. "I know. I know I have, and I know I was very wrong for it. But it was only because I was worried about you, Chase," he admitted with slight hesitation. Chase looked up. "I suppose I'm too fond of you. I honestly didn't think Jannali was good enough for you, and for that I was wrong. But I _am_ very proud of you for standing up for yourself. Even for beating the shit out of me," he added, with a small smile. Chase rolled his eyes.

"You could have killed me if you bothered to fight back, or even defend yourself," he reminded him. Darcy chuckled.

"Perhaps, but I didn't want to. Chase, I have to make this right. I have to do something to make things right between us again. I need at least one friend who doesn't want to beat me," he shrugged, his smile growing slightly. Chase gave a petulant huff.

"Well, if course I forgive you, if that's what you want to hear. I can't guarantee I won't beat you up for it, but as long as Jan can forgive you, things are always going to be right between us," he muttered, slightly red faced. Darcy nodded.

"Thank you. I – I will speak to Jannali. I'm very grateful you're able to forgive me for being the world's biggest twat," he replied, before leaning over and giving his friend an affectionate ruffle of his short hair. Chase gave a rather unwilling looking smile, and corrected his hair.

"I think I was being a bit mean, to be honest. I knew how sorry you were, but I didn't want to let you apologise," he shrugged. Darcy nodded.

"I understand."

"So, there's something – well, two things, I wanted to ask you about. I haven't been able to yet, what with the whole hating you thing, but I'd like to know now," he began again.

"Of course. Ask away."

"Are you sleeping with Eerin?" Chase questioned with a raised brow.

Darcy's mouth fell.

"H – How did you know about that?" he demanded instantly. Chase sniggered.

"It's pretty obvious. I mean, I know you've been in love with her for months, and Jan says she hasn't been sleeping in her apartment. I figured she was kipping at yours, if you know what I mean," he smirked, with a twinkle in his eyes. Darcy gave an embarrassed huff.

"Well... yes. I am... sleeping with her, if you must know," he admitted. Chase laughed, and Darcy's cheeks flushed.

"I knew it. You're happy all of a sudden. I've never seen you happy, not since before..." he trailed off, and Darcy lowered his eyes. "And even then, it was never like this. You actually appear to have something to live for, now," he teased. Darcy didn't reply for a moment.

"Yes, well... I would say so," he shrugged with an air of discomfort. Chase sniggered, he knew his friend didn't like talking about his personal life, but it was pretty amusing to press him on it. Although, he wasn't sure if Darcy was really being very intelligent with his choices.

"She's your student, you know. You could lose your job, your reputation, everything you worked so hard for," Chase pointed out with slight hesitation.

"Oh, believe me, I know," Darcy sighed, casting his eyes across the park. "But I think I stopped caring about my job the moment she walked into my classroom. I don't think I stood a single chance from that point on," he muttered.

"So how long has this been going on?" Chase questioned curiously.

"I was completely besotted with her twenty-four hours after our first lesson, and I tried to convince her to drop out of university to be with me the day after her accident, but she rejected me, of course," he answered. Chase sniggered at that, but after a scowl he silenced himself. "Anyway, she found it in her heart to forgive me for being the world's biggest idiot when we were at the beach house, and we've been together since that night you beat me up," he added wryly.

"Well, as long as it did you good in a twisted way," Chase laughed, his eyes twinkling eagerly. Darcy rolled his own eyes.

"That's right, laugh at my misfortunes," he drawled. Chase clapped him firmly on the back.

"That's what friends are for," he insisted with a broad grin. Darcy scoffed before speaking again.

"Well, you've been updated with my love life, what was the second question?" he enquired, turning back to his friend.

"Ah, well..." Chase attempted to begin, before clearing his throat and staring with determination at the ground beneath his feet. "Obviously you're the most... well, obvious choice. I mean, you've raised your own child, and there's no one I trust more than you. So..." he took a deep breath as if in preparation for what he was about to say. "Jan and I both want you to be the godfather of our child. We can't think of anyone else more suited," he blurted out finally.

Darcy smiled.

"I'd like that."

"Well... like I said, you're the most obvious choice," Chase defended, refusing to meet his friend's eyes.

"Thank you for the honour."

"Yes... well... you can do the same for me when you get around to it with Eerin," he grumbled somewhat uncomfortably. Darcy chuckled, and nodded.

"Of course. And truly, thank you, Chase. I'm glad at least one of my friends no longer hates me," he replied with a smile. Chase rolled his eyes.

"You don't have that many friends, Darce. You should try to keep them a bit better," he advised teasingly.

"Eerin has said things quite similar to that," he laughed, running a hand through his already messy dark hair before sighing. "I'm glad that you and Jan are working out. I can see how much you two love each other, I was blind to it before but it's quite obvious when you look for it," he commented suddenly. Chase turned to him with a slight smile.

"I'm glad I can stop ignoring you now. I didn't like that," he confessed. Darcy nodded.

"Well, neither did I. I think I still have a bit of work though, before things are alright again," he almost groaned, recalling the bridges he still needed to build with his friends and family.

"Too right. Jan doesn't know what you did, but I want you to tell her. I want you to apologise," he insisted with a slight frown.

"Of course. I'll do that as soon as I can," he assured him. Chase grinned.

"Good then! No time like the present," he declared cheerfully, leaping up to his feet.

"You want me to apologise _now_?" Darcy questioned, blanching slightly. Chase nodded.

"Yep. I want this cleared up before the wedding," he decided.

Darcy considered his options. He didn't really have any, he owed it to Jannali to apologise for nearly destroying her relationship and leaving her child without a father, even if it risked Eerin having to choose between her sister and her lover, because if Jannali was going to react as he expected her to react, then she wouldn't be happy to know that her sister was practically living with the man who had almost ruined her life.

"Alright. I'll speak to her now," he agreed, rising to his feet. He felt nervous, but he knew it had to be done. He had to take responsibility for his actions, and even if Jannali despised him, he would try to keep Eerin out of it.

The walk back to Chase's flat took a lot less time than Darcy would have liked, and before he had really had time to consider what he was going to say he was walking into the living room where Jannali sat, flicking through what looked to be family photos.

"Hello again, beautiful," Chase greeted, sweeping over to his fiancée and pressing a firm kiss to her cheek. Jannali giggled and blushed slightly, her eyes lighting up with love. Darcy felt like an idiot for not being able to see before.

"Eerin just left. She said she's going home, wherever that is for her at the moment," she smiled, spotting him standing in the doorway. Darcy forced a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "She looked lovely in the dress, by the way. She said you picked it," she added. Darcy nodded stiffly.

"He's got something he wants to discuss with you, sweetheart. I need to pop out for a few minutes, but I'll be back soon," Chase declared, moving to leave the living room.

"Oh, can you get some watermelon? And feta? And watercress?" Jannali called out excitedly. Chase sniggered.

"Another craving, love?" he questioned wryly.

"It's all I've been hungry for these past few days," she explained to Darcy, who nodded.

"Alright, I'll get your disgusting foods, I'll be back soon," Chase smiled, before pulling on his jacket and leaving the flat far too soon for Darcy's tastes.

"Want to sit down, Darcy? I'm just picking out some photos, we're going to have a video montage at the wedding," she smiled, patting the space beside her. Darcy nodded and joined her on the sofa, glancing curiously at some of the images she had selected.

"This is Eerin," he said suddenly, picking up a photo of a small toddler, with bony brown knees sticking out of a navy blue coat that almost consumed her entire body, a broad smile on her lips.

"Hmm, I forget how much darker she was when she was little. She's very pale now," she commented with a fond smile, before taking the photo from him and drawing his attention to another. "See? This was when she was about seven or eight. She's much paler already," she commented, pointing to a skinny young girl standing awkwardly with her sisters in front of a rather quaint looking school. Darcy's eyes traced the strangely familiar but at the same time foreign features of the young woman he knew so well.

"These are your other sisters?" he questioned, glancing to the other young girls. There were three that looked vaguely similar to the giggling young girls he had seen at Eerin's birthday party, but he rather doubted he would be able to pick them apart.

"Yes, that's Leena, Kylie and Maiya," she informed him, pointing to the young girls in turn. She gave a fond smile as she put the photo in a small pile with a few others. "So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" she questioned curiously.

For a moment Darcy hadn't heard her as he cast his eyes over the images of Eerin's face, smiling back at him from a number of holiday snaps and candid family portraits.

"I... I have a confession to make, Jannali, and I rather doubt you're going to like it," he began slowly, lowering his eyes in shame. He could feel her tense next to him.

"What is it?" she questioned nervously. He sighed.

"A few months ago Carol and I had a conversation about you and Chase, and our opinions on your relationship," he began, trying to keep his tone level. "We both agreed that it simply... couldn't go on, for a number of reasons, which I won't bore you with. We spoke to Chase, and that's why he left you. And I never gave him that letter you wrote," he admitted, waiting to hear her angry cries. They did not come, so he continued. "I don't think it was that I thought you weren't good enough for Chase. I just felt that he was moving too quickly, that he needed to slow down and consider what he wanted with you. I know you're a wonderful person, you're too kind to hurt Chase, and I knew that. I suppose I was partially just jealous that he'd found someone he respected more than myself," he shrugged ashamedly.

He turned to her after she didn't respond. She was staring blankly at the photos before her; the only clue that she had heard him was the slight tremble of her shoulders.

"Jannali, he loves you and he loves your child. I was wrong. I was... _so_ wrong. But I don't want you to think that Chase doesn't care for you, or that he was willing to just leave you like that. He's completely devoted to you," he insisted, perturbed by her silence. "I was ignorant, prejudiced and stupid. I can admit that, and you don't need to forgive me, but please, you must forgive Chase. It wasn't his fault," he continued.

"Stop. Please... stop."

Darcy felt a jolt of pain course through him. He nodded as she took a deep, calming breath and leant forwards slightly, supporting her head with her hands.

"Was it that you didn't like me? Was I some sort of backwater bogan?" she practically demanded between shaky breaths.

"No. No, never, Jannali," he assured her firmly, beseechingly trying to meet her eyes, but she kept them lowered to the floor. "It had _nothing_ to do with you. I was a complete fool, I took it upon myself to make assumptions about your relationship that weren't mine to make," he insisted, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

"I wasn't good enough, and you assumed I was only out for his money," she said blankly.

"Jannali, I never thought that. I was worried, I can admit. I didn't know you and I shouldn't have interfered," he said honestly, shifting closer to her on the lounge, but she still sat strangely still, her eyes never meeting his.

"Why. What's all I want. Tell me why."

Darcy took a deep breath. "I've seen Chase hurt before, and I wanted to spare him anymore pain. I thought, because of a combination of –"

"_What_ made you think I was some sort of gold digger?" she demanded snappishly, finally turning her head to meet his eyes with her darkly flashing glare. He could almost recognise Eerin's spark in those eyes, but it was gone before he could contemplate it.

Darcy sighed, knowing it was unavoidable. After his first insulting declaration of love to Eerin he had never wanted to bring it up again. But she was leaving him with no other choice.

"There were things said... by your mother, for the most part, that made me wary," he admitted ashamedly. Jannali's eyes narrowed.

"My mother says a lot of things, Darcy, but that doesn't mean that _I_ feel them!" she declared angrily. Darcy looked at her helplessly. "So I guess you thought I was too weak to resist what my mother has been pumping into her daughters all our lives. It wasn't that you thought I was a gold digger, it was that you thought I was too _weak_ to object to my mother's ideas!" she snapped, closing the photo album with a sharp slam.

"Jannali, I am _very_ sorry. I know I should never have interfered, it was beyond wrong of me," he swore with as much steadiness as he could, taking his turn to lower his eyes. He couldn't stand to see that hurt reflected in her gaze. "My opinion is completely reversed now. I know you're the best woman my friend could have ever fallen in love with, and I'm happy for you both. I only regret the stupid decisions I made earlier this year," he continued firmly.

Jannali lowered her head into her hands and took a deep, rattling breath.

"I was _so_ unhappy!" she practically spluttered.

"I know. I know and I'm sorry," he murmured.

"H – How _dare_ you?" she demanded furiously.

"Please, Jannali, you can yell and scream and hate me as much as you want later, but you're pregnant right now, and the fact that I've been an idiot isn't worth the risk of hurting your baby," he said calmly, reaching for her hand. She didn't pull away, and in fact turned into his chest and sobbed against his shoulders.

He felt slightly awkward, but soothed her as best he could.

It was a good five minutes before she finally stopped weeping and pulled away from him. He passed her the tissue box from the coffee table, and she began to wipe away the tears.

"Are you alright?" he asked her gently. She nodded rather shakily.

"I – I think so," she murmured.

"Jannali, all I can say is I'm sorry," he repeated, feeling rather pathetic. She nodded.

"Why now? After all these weeks, why tell me now?" she demanded quietly, turning to him with desperate eyes. He stared at his hands.

"I apologised to Chase, and he told me I needed to speak to you," he answered simply.

"No. Why _now_? Why did you apologise to him _now_? Why did you leave it so long?" she clarified with a snappishness he hadn't known she possessed. He looked at her without saying a word.

There was a certain resemblance to Eerin, but all those features and contours and all that sparkle that made Eerin so singular were what Jan was lacking. She was still very beautiful, but so different.

"Because of Eerin. She wanted me to apologise, and I would do anything for her," he answered finally.

She raised her hand sharply, and almost brought it against his face, but stopped herself with a sob.

"Was _she_ good enough, but I wasn't?" she demanded incredulously.

"Go on, hit me. I deserve it – and Chase has done it once before," he muttered pathetically.

"She _knew_?"

"She rejected me because she loved you too much. She said almost the same things you said yourself – I offered her everything I had, and she wanted nothing of it after what I did to you and Chase," he confessed. "Please, Jannali, hate me for the rest of my life, but don't hate Eerin. She's done _nothing_ wrong; she's so loyal to you. I have to fix things for her sake, too," he begged almost desperately.

"Are you two –"

"Yes, we're together now," he answered before she could even ask. She nodded, and lowered her dark eyes.

"So she picked you, in the end," she said bitterly. Darcy swallowed – he could sense what was coming.

"Don't make her choose. Jannali, don't make her pick between us, don't punish her for what I did," he begged. Jan stared at the photos before her.

"I made bad decisions when I was younger, but I did my best to turn my life around. I shouldn't hate you but I – I'm so _angry_ with you," she muttered. She gave a small, bitter laugh. "So Chase has forgiven you, and so has Eerin. I guess it's just up to me now," she drawled.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to forgive me at all. What I did was stupid," he assured her firmly.

"I've had enough of humble bloody words and apologies Darcy," she snapped finally, rubbing her temples with her slender fingers. "I trusted you to give that letter to Chase and you didn't. I _love_ him, I'm carrying his _baby_! How would you feel if Eerin was pregnant with _your_ child, and Chase took her away from you? How would you like it if someone took Ana away because they thought they were doing the _right _thing? You can't even imagine that," she cried angrily.

Those words struck Darcy sharply.

"I could. More than one person tried to take Ana away from me, and they succeeded for a while," he replied blankly. "Eerin and Ana are the two most precious things in my life. I couldn't bear to be without them, but I _have_ been without them because of my stupid mistakes, Jannali," he said quietly, lowering his head.

"Don't make me forgive you. _Please_, don't make me," she begged desperately, tears falling silently from her dark eyes. Darcy shrugged.

"If you forgive me, that's your decision. I can understand if you don't. But I beg you – don't bring Eerin into the mess I've created," he finished, rising to his feet. "I'll leave you, it's obvious that this has been nothing but upsetting. Please, get some rest, I wouldn't want you to get ill because of me," he said in a finalising tone, moving to leave the room.

"She won't pick you. I know her. If you asked her to, she wouldn't. She won't."

Darcy looked back sadly.

"I would never ask her to, Jannali. And I just hope you don't either."

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

"Hey. Did you manage to talk to Chase?" Eerin smiled when he entered the flat. Her smile faded when she saw his stricken face. "He didn't –"

"No, he did. Jannali didn't," he murmured simply. She crossed the room immediately and enveloped him in her slender arms. He buried his head in her short hair.

"She'll come round."

"I told her. And Chase. They know," he admitted quietly.

"And?"

"You might have to choose," he shrugged, holding her tightly.

Eerin pulled back, and gave him a comforting smile.

"I already did," she practically whispered, love shining in her brilliant dark eyes.

"You shouldn't feel like you have to," he frowned immediately. She pressed a kiss to his neck.

"And that's why I picked you," she shrugged. He released a long, slow sigh, and nodded.

"Thank you."

"Anytime, bub."

**A/N: So a bit of angst, a bit of trouble, and a shopping trip. All enjoyable things.**


	29. Of Forgiveness and Foes

"_Brother you don't need to turn me away,_

_I was waiting down at the ancient gates_

_You go wherever you go today,_

_You go today_,"

-Fleet Foxes, 'Mykonos'

Darcy frowned as he looked across the bed to where Eerin slept peacefully beside him. How could she sleep? She seemed so peaceful, while he was in torment. He slid down in the bed with a heavy sigh, rolling to his side to watch her shift in her slumber.

She looked like something out of a fashion magazine, absolutely perfect in her sleep, wearing a pair of silk boylegs and a thin white skivvy, her short hair curling at the lengthening tips, her face soft and without worry. He felt like sketching her, but he honestly doubted if he had the energy.

He _wanted_ to call Chase, he didn't care about the late hour, he wanted to call his friend and ask if Jannali had forgiven him. As of yet she hadn't mentioned the situation at all to Chase, but worse than that, she was ignoring her Eerin's calls. She didn't want to talk to anyone connected with Darcy, not after what he had done to her.

It was hurting Eerin, but she tried not to let it show. The wedding was only in a few days, and yet her sister was refusing to speak with her. Darcy knew what he should do; he should release Eerin from whatever hold he had over her and allow her to return to her sister's good graces.

But he didn't want to, and he didn't think he could.

It was times like these when the stinging loss of his parents struck him the hardest. They would know exactly what to say in such a situation, they would comfort him in the way only they knew how. His mother would know exactly what to say to soothe him, and his father would clap him on the shoulder with pride shining in his eyes.

He wanted Ana at that moment, he wanted the little girl who had crawled into his bed when the nightmares became too much for her; he wanted to comfort her and himself at the same time. He needed _someone_ there for him.

"Mmm... you still awake?" he heard a quiet mumble come from beside him. He smiled as he turned back to the beautiful picture beside him.

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep," he commanded her gently. She shifted, and slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the light of the bedside reading lamp.

"What's wrong?" she questioned with a rather adorable pout. He pulled up the blankets to cover their bodies.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep," he replied simply. She yawned, and shook her head, ruffling her short dark hair as if to wake herself up.

"Nup. You're brooding about something," she stated as firmly as she could only a few minutes away from unconsciousness. He gave a weak smile.

"I'm just thinking, sweetheart," he assured her. She smiled at the endearment, and slid next to him, resting her head against the side of his chest.

"You can talk to me, you know. I won't bite," she reminded him. He chuckled.

"Even when I want you to?" he challenged. She rolled her eyes.

"Smooth. Seriously, what's up?" she demanded with a raised brow. He shrugged, and wound a lazy arm around her waist.

"I'm thinking."

"About Jan?"

He nodded. "Yes. And my parents. And Ana. And you," he muttered quietly.

She didn't speak for a moment.

"Tell me about them," she requested.

"What?"

"Your parents. Tell me about your parents, if that's okay," she asked softly. He shook his head.

"No. Not tonight," he murmured, so quietly she almost didn't hear.

"I'm sorry. It must be hard," she replied after a moment of heavy silence. He sighed, almost in agitation.

"It is. I don't know. I _do_ want to talk about it, but..." he stopped himself, and turned his eyes out to the large window overlooking the beautiful Sydney cityscape, the dark waters of the harbour reflecting the lights from the boats passing by the Quey. "But I never have before. Not really. When they died I learnt to keep everything bottled up, and it's hard to talk about it," he explained slowly.

"Hey. You can tell me anything, you know," she reminded him. He sighed.

She was about to speak again, so long was the silence between them, before he finally spoke.

"I was born at Pemberley, to the North. Then it was just my mother, father and I. We had servants, I suppose, but it still always felt like we were just a small, ordinary family," he began quietly. Eerin nodded against his side, to tell him without words that she was listening. "My mother had miscarried twice before me, and I was ill when I was small. She lost two more children before Ana finally came along, and by then they had stopped trying, she was an unplanned, very happy surprise," he smiled softly.

"Your poor mother. I can't imagine that, losing so many children before she even got to meet them," she mumbled quietly. He reached for her hand, and gave it a slight squeeze.

"We'll be luckier," he assured her gently. Eerin looked like she wanted to object, probably to his increasing pre-emptive assurances that one day, they would be married and one day, they would have children. But she bit back any comments, and was silent for a moment.

"Were you lonely? Being an only child?" she questioned curiously. He shrugged.

"I've always been shy, and preferred my own company. My parents were all I needed," he said simply. "And they would have _adored_ you. My mother would have fawned over you, and my father would have tried to charm you into leaving me for him instead," he grinned.

"Well, I _am_ quite a catch," she laughed, rolling her eyes. He chuckled, running his thumb gently over her shoulder.

"I suppose that some people might have considered my father cold. I worshipped him; I'd have done anything to make him proud of me. And the same with my mother, she was just... such a wonderful woman," he murmured gently, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he cast his memory back. "I can't even explain it. She just had this smile that lit everything up, and she was so gentle and compassionate, the best mother I could ever ask for," he continued fondly. "They both adored Ana from the moment she blinked those long lashes at them. Even though she was only ten months old when they died, she was _so_ loved," he added, his voice fading into slight bitterness.

"And she still is," Eerin said quietly. He shook his head.

"I failed her. She was injured because of _me_. Because I didn't give Graham fucking Wickham money he _stole_ her from me. She was so young, Eerin," he practically growled in desperation. "They almost – he – he almost – I would have killed every one of them if they'd raped her," he almost whispered, his voice radiating with fury, so much so that Eerin almost felt scared.

"But she's safe, and it _wasn't_ your fault, Will. You didn't do anything wrong," she insisted firmly. He sighed.

"I worry sometimes that they'd be disappointed in me. I don't make a lot of mistakes, I'm normally very precise. Little careless errors never slip past me," he murmured thoughtfully. "But when I _do_ make a mistake, it's always huge, and someone else has to pay for it," he sighed.

"That's not –"

"Yes. It is, and there's no use denying it," he practically snapped, glancing at the young woman by his side for a moment. "I'm sorry. Maybe we should continue this another time. I – I don't find it easy to talk like this," he admitted somewhat shamefully. She nodded in understanding.

"That's alright. We should probably get some sleep anyway," she yawned, her eyes fluttering to a close. Within minutes her breathing had slowed and she was fast asleep.

Darcy sighed with slight jealousy. He wished he could slip so easily into dreams, but things weighed too heavily on his mind. He _had_ to sort out the mess with Jannali before her wedding. It wasn't fair to Eerin that she was stuck in this limbo without her sister.

He sunk down into the sheets and closed his eyes, hoping to trick himself into sleep.

He would worry about it in the morning.

* * *

"Jan? Sweetie, are you alright?" Chase questioned his bride-to-be tentatively. Jan glanced up from the spread of photos on the coffee table before her. She gave a weak smile.

"I'm fine. Just trying to finish this off," she replied as cheerfully as she could.

"Uh, Jan, love, it's really late," he reminded her, glancing to the clock above the mantle. She peered at it with surprise.

"Oh, really? That late? Well, I'm almost finished here," she assured him, her voice a little strained. He crossed into the lounge room and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You should really get some sleep," he reminded her softly. She gave an irritated huff.

"I'm fine. I want to finish this," she snapped, reaching for another box of photos. Her hands trembled as she pulled out the first image.

Chase watched with hesitation as she stared at her sister's smiling face.

"She sent me some of these when she was away in Europe," she said quietly. Chase sat down beside her.

"You should give her a ring, you know. She probably misses you," he suggested, reaching for her hand. Her dark eyes were filled with tears.

"Why didn't you tell me, Chase?" she demanded angrily, turning to him suddenly. He sighed, and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"Because... I felt guilty. He barely did anything, he just told me what he felt was the truth, and it all exploded from there," he admitted quietly, turning his gaze to the photos on the coffee table. "I didn't want to admit that I was weak. I cared so much about his opinion when I should have cared more about you," he murmured sheepishly.

"He abused your trust," she snapped. Chase shrugged.

"Perhaps. But I think he was testing me. If I resisted, he would know how much I cared about you, and he would have stepped back. It was really my fault," he explained with hesitation. Jan gave a frustrated huff. "Jan, he regrets what he did, you can't keep punishing him. And you can't punish Eerin, either," he insisted.

"Eerin knows what he did, and she's still with him. And she didn't even trust me enough to admit that," she snapped bitterly. Chase sighed.

"Maybe. But she's young and in love, what more can you ask from her? She loves you to death, and she didn't get together with Darcy until he'd started to fix what he did wrong. I don't think you should be so hard on her," he replied, winding an arm around her waist to comfort her. Jan sniffled.

"I'm just so... _angry_ with both of them," she admitted huffily.

"Is it possible that... you're not really angry at _them_? I know we sort of brushed over things, Jan, but you're allowed to be angry with me. I screwed up, and I did it knowingly. But you can't use them as a scapegoat," he said softly, passing his hand gently over her hair. She didn't respond. He glanced down to see a glassy expression on her face that suggested she was deep in thought.

"I – I think it's... easier to think that you didn't want to leave me. That is was someone else's fault," she murmured quietly, with a small sniffle. Chase nodded. "Eerin always stuck up for me. I really went off the rails a few years ago, I... I snuck out of the house, I went to parties and I drank every other day, I really... I made a mess of my life, but she was always there," she continued, wiping her teary eyes. "Once... I walked out of home. I just picked up a bag and started to walk up to the servo, and she followed me, she nearly got hit by a truck trying to run after me, telling me not to go," she sighed quietly.

"Do you really think she did any of this to hurt you?" Chase asked after a short, loaded silence. Jan sobbed, and shook her head against his chest.

"But he... he's still responsible, and _she_, she..."

Chase gave a soft, slightly bitter smile.

"I know. But you have to forgive them eventually, and I think you should just talk to them," he suggested. Jan gave a long, slow sigh, and finally nodded.

"Alright. I'll ring Eerin tomorrow, but I don't know if I forgive them yet," she warned him. He smiled.

"That's alright, give it time. Now come on, I'm exhausted," he declared, standing up, and pulling his wife-to-be with him. Jan gave a sigh of relief.

"It feels good to know this is going to be over soon, and I can be with you for the rest of my life," she said thoughtfully. Chase gave a giddy grin.

"Well I'm certainly looking forward to it. Now hurry up, I'm dead on my feet," he urged her. Jan laughed, and pressed a kiss to Chase's lips.

"I love you," she smiled. He pushed back a strand of hair with loving fingers.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

* * *

Despite Jan's chagrin, she did end up forgiving Eerin and Darcy the next day over a phone call to her sister. It was good timing, as with only forty-eight hours before the big day, a lot needed to be done, and it wasn't suiting anyone for those things to be done without assistance.

"So we still have to confirm the meal with the caterer, and I have to speak to the hotel manager at the Carrington about the decorations for the reception," Jan babbled over the phone the morning two days before the wedding. "And I need to drive them over to Katoomba, and then I need to see the florist this afternoon, and I still haven't decided on the song list," she continued at a hundred miles an hour as Eerin tried not to giggle at her sister's energy.

"I can drive the decorations to Katoomba and make the song selections if you want, bub. And I have good taste in music, too, so leave that to me," she grinned, turning her phone on speaker as she dressed for her early classes.

"Oh, really? Would you be able to do that?" Jan questioned hopefully. Eerin laughed.

"Of course, I finish class at eleven, and then I can go over to the Carrington and I'll meet the musicians in town," she assured her, pulling on a pair of leggings. "Usually they have a selection available and I just have to pick and choose the pieces. I have to talk to them about Hamish and I, too, if you're still okay with us doing a few songs," she added, as Darcy approached her from behind, winding his hands around her bare waist as she scrambled through her new wardrobe for a shirt. She tried not to laugh as he pressed his lips to the back of her neck and his fingers traced over her ribs, so lightly that it was almost tickling.

"Of course I am! Oh, Eerin, if you could do that it would be _so_ wonderful!" Jan sighed happily.

"Sure thing, baby cakes. I'll drive over as soon as class is finished," she replied, before letting out a laugh as Darcy tried to slide his hand over her back and unclip her bra.

"I guess Darcy is there?" Jan questioned with faint amusement, but Eerin could hear in her tone that she thought it was strange.

"Um, yes, being very naughty," Eerin giggled. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"I'm not fifteen," he reminded her pointedly.

"I should let you get ready, but if you could pop over and get the decorations that would be _wonderful_, Rinny, I'm sure Carol will be happy to go with you, too," Jan babbled excitedly. Eerin cringed slightly at the thought.

"Sounds delightful. Alright, I'll talk to you later then, bub," she replied, before they gave their goodbyes.

"I should feel sorry for you, but I find it too amusing. I know the pain that Carol Bingley inflicts," Darcy sniggered, pulling on a shirt as Eerin searched for a pair of shoes.

"You're mean. She's so painful, that woman," she huffed petulantly. Darcy nodded.

"I'm well aware. She's been trying to seduce me for years, I think she's passing desperate and veering off into insanity," he chuckled, winding his belt through the loops of his trousers.

"Yes, her taste in men is a clear indication of madness," Eerin sighed dramatically. Darcy scoffed, as if wounded, but his eyes twinkled with merry amusement regardless.

"Horrid young woman."

"That's what my Daddy calls me," she retorted with a pleased smile. He rolled his bright green eyes.

"Speaking of your father, I really need to speak to him, soon," he said suddenly, as they both finished dressing. Eerin pouted.

"But he'll play his fucked-up mind games with you," she objected, crossing to the bathroom and running a comb quickly through her short hair.

"I'll survive," he assured her, selecting a tie from his wardrobe door. In truth he felt a little flattered that she was so concerned for him, it was quite endearing, really. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her go about her makeup routine. He rather enjoyed watching her do simple, everyday things. She usually didn't bother with foundation or any of that nonsense, a little blush, some eyeliner and mascara, and some lip tint every now and then. He liked it when she looked natural.

They were both still very new to living with another individual. They had really stumbled into living together, and she hadn't been home for quite some time. He knew it couldn't last forever, but he was very much enjoying having her around. She had even mentioned finding a new job within the city that meant she didn't have to live back in the Shire.

It was a curious thing; when he was with Laura, he very rarely thought about the future, he was happy, or so he thought, in the here and now. But with Eerin, he was forever looking forwards. He wanted a future with her, he wanted to get married, he wanted to travel the world with her and their shared passion for the meanings of things, and when they had seen the world, they would settle down in England and have a few children before they grew old together. It could have simply been Chase's impending wedding, but he had been thinking of marriage often in the past few weeks.

"You right?" she questioned with a smile, realising that he was staring at her. He returned her concern with his own smile as she stepped out of the bathroom.

"I'm fine, I was just basking in your presence, I suppose," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth as he moved towards her. She laughed at his flattery, and rolled her dark eyes, but he could tell it pleased her.

"Suck up. I'm going to head off, my class starts soon. I'll see you this afternoon," she said, rising to her toes and pressing another, firmer kiss to his mouth. After a full minute she finally broke away, breathless.

"Mm, can't keep your hands off me?" Darcy questioned teasingly, winding his arms around her waist. She scoffed.

"Ego, much?" she retorted with a teasing smile. "Right, I'll see you later then, Mr I-think-so-well-of-myself," she finished, before slipping out of his arms and leaving him with nothing but a chaste kiss on the cheek and a wink over her shoulder.

Darcy chuckled as she left their bedroom.

He knew they had only been together for a very short while, but still, was marriage so ridiculous?

* * *

Carol glared at the Hermès watch on her perfectly tanned wrist, before crossing her slender arms against her non-existent chest, draped in a stunning silk Byblos blouse, Jimmy Choo boots poking out beneath Michael Kors trousers.

She wasn't happy that she had to meet Eerin-bloody-Beaumont, and she was _not_ happy that she was late. After all, what did that girl know about weddings? She was a veritable child, sweet and naïve with no idea of the realities of life. Carol didn't _blame_ the girl for catching Darcy's eye all those months ago, he was weak and she obviously ticked several boxes for him, when he felt the need to validate his manhood before he finally settled down with someone more suitable.

She had hoped to use Laura to her advantage, but hope was lost on that account, and she'd returned to England broken-hearted, but her visit was not for nothing. It gave Carol some vital information on Darcy, she just wasn't sure who 'Kim' was.

"Oh, hello Carol, Jan said you'd be here," came a very unenthusiastic voice from behind. Carol turned to see that skinny little girl staring at her with disappointment, dressed in leggings and a scruffy old band shirt with a cardigan and tennis shoes.

Honestly, it was as if Alexa Chung and Agness Deyn had made a baby.

"Yes, I decided not to wait for you at Chase's apartment," she drawled, narrowing her eyes. "You've cut your hair," she accused, cogs ticking in her brain. Eerin shrugged as she took her seat.

"Well, no, I didn't cut it myself. Someone else did," she returned pointedly, ruffling that short hair as she spoke. Carol's mind was racing with possibilities. Could it be...?

"Well. At least you tried," she returned pointedly, pulling out a folder. "Now, you're really quite useless at the moment, but I've arranged for one of the musicians to meet us here in fifteen minutes, so you might serve some purpose then," she snapped, flicking through pages and pages of plans. The girl looked on doubtfully.

"Are these all for this room?" she questioned doubtfully. Carol sent her a pointed glare.

"Clearly you lack creativity – this room will look stunning when I'm through with it. Did you pick up the ribbons?" she demanded pointedly. Eerin nodded, and gestured to the two large canvas tote bags beside her chair.

"Yup. Nice colour, that," she drawled, eying the lengths of peach satin.

"Pastels are in this season," was Carol's only response as she sipped her tea. "Well, now that you've picked those up for me I don't think I have much use for you for the next fifteen minutes, so let's find something to talk about," she decided with a clearly forced smile. Eerin almost winced.

"What's up in Carol-Town?" she retorted with clear sarcasm. Carol scoffed.

"You seem so enthusiastic," she drawled, narrowing her eyes. "No, let's talk about _you_. When did you get the haircut?" she questioned almost in accusation. Eerin blinked.

"A while ago, I guess. Last holidays," she shrugged, obviously feeling uncomfortable.

"And where have you been living recently? Sydney, or are you back in the Shire with all the other hobbits?"

"Oh, no, we're migrating to Mordor, you've spoken so fondly about your home we figured we might visit. Tell me, as an Orc, how do you feel about –"

"You're hilarious," Carol interrupted her pointedly, crossing her arms against her chest.

"I try," she retorted with a sarcastic grin.

"So? Where's home?" she demanded.

"The Shire. I've been kipping over at Jan's old place a fair bit though, to help her before the wedding," she answered simply, making her stance clear. She wasn't going to be bullied.

Carol's eyes narrowed once more.

"Is that so?" she questioned lightly. Eerin nodded, her jaw set and firm.

"It is so."

"And school?"

"It's been great."

"Still enjoying Professor Darcy's classes? He's always been such a wonderful teacher."

"He's alright, I suppose, a bit uptight, but he knows his stuff."

"I'll bet he does."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me, Frodo," Carol drawled, crisply pushing back a strand of her freshly dyed white-blonde hair. A glint of suspicion flashed in Eerin's eyes.

"First of all, I'm a girl, and no matter how feminine Elijah Wood is, Frodo doesn't fit, Shelob. Secondly, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but I assume it's related to your unhealthy obsession with Darcy," she snapped. Carol raised a brow. "So if you want me to suss out if he's into you, then I'm not your girl, and as it's pretty obvious that he's into blokes, don't think you've got much of a chance," she added simply.

Carol laughed, and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Eerin, dear, so young, so foolish," she sighed, with the air of a wise woman. Eerin rolled her dark eyes.

"One way of putting it, but I always thought 'realistic' was a better term," she said simply. Carol's eyes flashed angrily, but she did not speak.

Instead she thought.

Kim.

Rin.

It was possible. The only question was what could she do about it?

**A/N: So, I've spent the last few days putting together a Disney Princess toy kitchen for my bedroom, painting my dollhouse, making 'Phantom of the Opera' themed Build a Bears and working on the illustrations for my book. Working title right now is 'Beatrice and the Deceiving Castle', and it's going to be a mixture of young adult fantasy and extremist Marxist socialism. Sounds like fun? As I write it I increasingly notice that the basic foundation for this story is very similar to Pride and Prejudice. Hmm. Maybe I've been writing too many of these fics? SYCMIOYO, Sweet Lolita, Love and Other Labels, The Hill (sort of) and now, An Education. Five big old fics with the same essential storyline... concerning...**

**Anyhoo, so this book is hopefully going to take me a year with the story and illustrations combined, and then I'm going to attempt to get it published. I'm very excited :D YOU ALL MUST BUY IT WHEN IT'S DONE, KK THANKS LOVE YOU ALL LONG-TIME.**

**Don't worry. I won't make you buy it. But it'd be nice :D**

**Lots of love, **

**Evie**


	30. Of Ceremonies and Concern

"_I'll kill her, I'll kill her,_

_She stole my future, yeah she broke my dream_

_I'll kill her, I'll kill her,_

_She stole my future when she took you away,"_

-Soko, 'I'll Kill Her'

"Chase Randwick Bingley, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to honour, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?"

Chase beamed as his soft blue eyes locked onto Jan's.

"I do."

"And Jannali Maria Beaumont, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to honour, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?" the priest continued, turning to the blushing bride, her perfect pink lips stretched into a broad smile.

"Yes, I do," she laughed happily, squeezing Chase's hands.

Eerin blushed as she looked across the alter to catch Darcy staring at her. She gave him a small smile, and he bowed his head slightly. Neither of them took much notice of the bride and groom, not when Darcy glanced up and silently mouthed 'I love you' before winking. Eerin felt her heart flutter – he'd said it time and time again but it still thrilled her. She tightened her hold on her bouquet and mouthed the same in response.

"The rings?" the priest requested, turning to Darcy, who gave a slightly guilty smile for being occupied, and then stepped forwards to produce the two identical platinum bands. Eerin smirked slightly, to which he rolled his eyes. Before they even realised, Chase and Jan were leaning forwards to share their first kiss as a married couple, and the church full of family and friends cheered delightedly.

But Eerin and Darcy didn't hear. They were too lost in their own world to take much notice, especially when the happy couple began their walk down the aisle to leave the hall.

It appeared that the attention of the entire church was fixed singularly to the bride and groom, which was convenient for Darcy, as they did not notice that he stood perhaps too close to his student as they followed Chase and Jan, or that when he bent his head to whisper something too her, the intimacy of his tone and her flushing cheeks suggested something of a more romantic nature.

"A year, Eerin. Twelve months is the most I'll be able to stand before I get to walk down an aisle with you," he murmured quietly, forcing a smile as friends and relatives of the new Mr and Mrs Bingley clapped him and the others from the bridal party on the back with enthusiasm.

"And who said I'd have you? Haven't asked me yet, have you," she returned with teasing challenge, arching a brow at him. He chuckled, recalling their conversation only a few hours prior.

He had been waiting outside of the bedroom for Jan and Chase's flat for ten minutes, hoping he would be able to catch Eerin. So far he had suffered the wrath that was Mrs Beaumont, and the harpish tirades of Carol, and his head was still pounding from the rather vocal manifestations of their conflict only an hour or so earlier, about how Jan should have her hair. Carol won, but her victory was at the cost of Mrs Beaumont's eternal hatred.

"There you are!" he gasped when she finally slipped out of the bedroom, catching his young lover around the waist. Eerin laughed as he pulled her to his chest and pressed his lips against her neck.

"William! I have to get Jan's veil from the living room!" she giggled as he practically dragged her down the hall, where they were out of the way of loud, meddling Beaumonts.

"I don't care – Lord, it feels like an age since I've held you," he sighed into her hair, his hands sliding over her satin bathrobe.

"Less than twenty-four hours."

"Nineteen hours, and you were only a few minutes away that whole time. I think you quite literally are killing me," he informed her in a rather factual voice as he grazed his teeth against the skin on the side of her neck. She trembled in his arms.

Well, if it's any consolation," she rasped, her voice hitching on every second syllable as he slid his hand from the base of her shoulder down to the curve of her thighs. "Jan decided that for her last night of unmarried life we'd watch every single trashy American romantic comedy she owned, and then _The Notebook_. I love my sister, but I hate her as well," she replied as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, and slid his hand slowly up her thigh, pulling her robe up with her.

"Does she need you in there, or could you spare –"

"_Eerin! Hurry up, we need that veil!_" came a horrible screech from the room she had just fled. Darcy groaned in disappointment, but did not let go of Eerin.

"I think I'm needed," she laughed consolingly.

"When it's our wedding, there won't be any family members fretting over your hair. You, me, a dress and a priest – maybe Ana and _one_ of your sisters," he warned her firmly. Eerin laughed.

"Thinking that far ahead?" she challenged. He smirked as he straightened up.

"It's not that far ahead, I don't think," was his only response before he captured her lips in a firm kiss, and then freed her from his grip with a wink. Eerin breathlessly followed him with her eyes as he strolled out of the hallway, as if he hadn't been clutching her desperately only ten seconds ago.

Eerin was jilted from her memories with a handful of confetti in her face as she found herself outside the hall with a collection of weeping relatives watching the couple drive away to the reception.

"Carmen, you whore," she growled, spitting out pieces of pink paper from her mouth. Carmen covered her mouth to hold back her laughter, but to no avail. Even Darcy was smirking a little.

"You deserve it, we haven't seen each other in ages, wench," she accused, swinging an arm around her friend's shoulders, almost making her fall to the ground.

"Hey, not my fault, you got a new toy, remember?" Eerin challenged, causing Carmen to blush and a hint of a smirk to play over her lips.

"Bit of a freak on the outside, but a beast in bed," she informed her, as if she were discussing nothing more than the weather. Eerin cringed.

"Ew. Details I do not need or want."

"You'd be surprised if you knew who he was," Carmen grinned secretively. Eerin raised a brow out of curiosity.

"Do I know him?" she questioned eagerly. Carmen bit her lip.

"Uhh... yes. Please don't get mad."

Eerin frowned.

"Oh God, you're not going with _Graham_, are you?" she cried suddenly, reeling back. Carmen shook her head firmly.

"No way. We both agreed he was bad news, right?"

Eerin sighed in relief. "Jesus, then who –"

Her eyes narrowed.

"No."

"He's not as bad as you think," Carmen insisted. Eerin clamped her hands over her ears.

"He grabbed my boob in class!" she hissed, her teeth clenched. Carmen grinned.

"That's what I like about him."

"Oh my God, please, never _ever_ say anything like that again!" Eerin exclaimed with a shudder. "And keep him away from me when you two are out together, I can't stand him," she insisted firmly. Carmen laughed.

"So I take it you don't approve?" she questioned. Eerin shook her head firmly.

"Do you need me to?"

"Nope. I don't care if you do or don't, I know you probably don't understand, but I'm only in it for the sex, Rin," she assured her with a comforting pat on the shoulder. Eerin cringed.

"Change of topic please."

"Alright then, but stop wincing," Carmen commanded, before glancing over her friend's shoulder. "Lord, your professor came? I feel so sorry for you, I know you can't stand him," she murmured, taking in the handsome picture that William Fitz Darcy made when wearing a tuxedo. He was speaking to Chase's parents, who seemed quite distressed, probably due to their son's choice of a bride.

"It's not so bad now. That was ages ago," she replied under her breath. Carmen didn't know what had happened between Eerin and Darcy all those months ago when she had run from his classroom in tears, but she had her suspicions, and was now far from Darcy's biggest fan.

"Yeah right. Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't have to go near him," she assured her friend with firm conviction.

"Uh, thanks, but... I don't really –"

"My apologies, ladies, but the wedding party has to leave, so I need Eerin," came a polite, British accent from behind the two. They both turned to see Darcy standing with his arms behind his back, and the parents of the bride and groom getting into the second car.

"Rin wants to come with me to the reception," Carmen stated pointedly, placing one hand on her hip.

"If you would like to tell Carol Bingley that, I'm sure she'd understand. She's not that fussy, after all," Darcy drawled. Carmen thought over her options, and released Eerin.

"Sorry babe, I'll see you at the reception," she said as cheerfully as she could, and disappeared into the crowd of people dispersing from the hall.

"Ready to go?" Darcy asked, leading her down the stone steps to the waiting car.

"Car is worried about me, I think," she murmured quietly. Darcy looked thoughtful, but did not reply. "Maybe we should –"

"Mind your head, Miss Beaumont," he directed, cutting her words as he helped her into the limousine that had been hired for the wedding. On one side sat Mervyn and Victoria Bingley, looking rather put out by the entire business, and on the other was Fiona and Warrain Beaumont, the latter of whom was staring out the window with an expression of complete boredom.

"Sit here, Darcy," Victoria commanded, patting the place beside her. Darcy took his place by her side, before he was joined by Carol a moment later.

"What a lovely ceremony. Don't you think, Darcy?" Carol drawled, her eyes shining almost dangerously.

"It was very pleasant," he replied, glancing over to Eerin, who was sitting with her head resting against her father's shoulder, ignoring Fiona's rambles.

"It's almost as if they're a whole other species," Carol whispered snidely to him as she spotted his line of vision.

"Hardly."

"Look at her tiny little heels and that bow in her hair. She's like a child," she sniggered.

"I don't know what kind of children wear heels, Carol, so I cannot express an opinion on the matter," he returned curtly as the car began to move. A heavy silence fell over those in the car.

"So. Beaumont. I hear you're a university lecturer of some sort?" Mervyn Bingley demanded suddenly, breaking the tension.

"English literature," Warrain drawled in bored retort. "I specialise in eighteenth and nineteenth century English texts. Dickens, Austen, the Brontës, that sort," he added.

"And you own a salon?" Victoria questioned Fiona with obvious distaste.

"A beauty and relaxation centre. We do everything there," she beamed in answer.

"I'll bet," Carol scoffed with a knowing smirk. Darcy wanted to roll his eyes at her rudeness, but kept silent. Conversation plummeted from there, and it wasn't until they arrived at the hotel did another word pass lips in the car.

"Well, Mrs Beaumont, I suppose you're very happy to have secured such a good match for your daughter," Victoria commented as they drove up to the car park. "Especially in her condition," she added pointedly.

"I'm sorry? I don't catch your meaning," Fiona frowned.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? Our boy is paying for someone else's mistakes with someone like your daughter," Mervyn accused coldly.

"Someone like my daughter?" Fiona repeated coolly, her eyes narrowing and her fists tightening.

"We can understand if these sorts of little 'problems' occur in such a country as this, but back in England, young men with as much potential, talent and breeding as our son don't exactly _marry _the lower stock," Mervyn continued with obvious aggression. Fiona pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, colour rising quickly to her cheeks.

"Well, I'm sorry Mr Bingley, if you think that my daughter is of 'lower stock' because your son was so forgetful, but in _this_ country, it doesn't matter if you have potential, talent or breeding, you do the honourable thing," she began pointedly. "And considering it's common knowledge that the Bingley 'stock' started out as poor farmers and factory workers, I wouldn't be so quick to condemn my Jannali," she snapped curtly, before the car stopped and the stormed out of the vehicle, leaving the occupants with lowered jaws.

"Well? Are you going to apologise for your wife, or can't you control her?" Mervyn demanded, turning to Warrain, who had a serene sort of smile on his face.

"Why would I apologise? Did she lie?" he questioned calmly. Mervyn spluttered for an answer, but he did not reply. "I thought so. Well then, we'd best be off, can't have this party starting without us," he announced, climbing out of the vehicle with a grin on his weathered face.

"Dad!" Eerin called, scrambling out of the car to follow her father. "Jesus, has mum gone mad? How did she know all that?" she exclaimed in complete surprise. Warrain laughed.

"I think you just realised why I married your mother, Rinny. She didn't know, but it was pretty likely that they would have had farmers or factory workers in the family," he sniggered. Eerin started to giggle, and then laugh as she watched her mother storm up to the hotel entrance.

She often had wondered if she was adopted, and sometimes had even hoped, but every now and then her mother completely surprised her.

"Come on then, I want to find the corner furthest away from the music and dancing so I can read my book," Warrain decided, linking arms with his daughter and heading up the stone steps outside of the Carrington.

* * *

Darcy wasted no time in seeking Eerin out as guests started to pour into the stunning grand dining hall of the Carrington Hotel. He was furious with Mervyn for so obviously criticising the Beaumont family, acting as if they were of such high breeding when what Mrs Beaumont had said was true; they _did_ come from a line of factory workers and farmers.

"Darcy, can you _believe_ how rude they were?" came an irritating screech from behind as Darcy stood in the foyer, searching the growing crowd for the familiar short curls of his lover.

"Carol, after that display I'm in no mood," he practically growled in return. He spied a hint of pink satin through the sea, but it was gone before he could be sure if it was Eerin.

"I mean, the nerve of that woman, claiming such horrid things about the Bingley family," Carol continued with a nervous laugh, as if she hadn't heard his response. He rolled his eyes as she pressed up against his side, disgusting orange silk pressing against his coat sleave, false eyelashes fluttering in a disgusting attempt at allure.

"Yes, well, sometimes the truth can be distasteful. Excuse me, I must leave," he muttered, pulling himself from her grip and heading off in search of Eerin before he was attacked by another offended Bingley.

"Eerin! There you are," he hissed, when he spied her coming into the hall through another entryway.

"Sorry, I was just seeing that Mum was right," she informed him, keeping a respectable distance. They were in public, after all.

"Are _you_ alright?" he demanded anxiously. He was so angry with that display in the car, but for some reason, he felt almost as if it were _his_ fault.

"Huh? Oh, I'm great. It was a laugh and a half to see Mum act like her old self again," she smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Dad's gone off with _Little Dorrit_ and found a nice chair in one of the sitting rooms, and Chase and Jan are up in their room. Which is incidentally, just down the hall from ours, so I hope they're quiet," she laughed. Darcy gave a relieved sigh to see that she wasn't upset.

"I'm sorry about that. They were completely out of line," he murmured, wishing he could take her in his arms, to be damned with who was watching.

"It had nothing to do with you, idiot-face," she assured him with a comforting grin. He nodded, but he still felt the weight of the guilt on his shoulders. "Come on, we're best man and girlie, we have to meet and greet," she instructed him with a cheeky smile, practically skipping across the carpet.

Darcy followed her obediently, but there was a niggling sense of blame that seemed to be worming its way into his subconscious as guests began to arrive, music was played and drinks passed out. He was worried.

He tended to worry a great deal; it was just the man he was. Ana had always found it exasperating, the way that he over-thought every tiny little thing. It in part stemmed from his work as an iconographer and symbolist, he had to read great deals of information from the tiniest nuances, and he found it difficult to separate that from reality. Somehow he was convinced that it was his responsibility to keep Eerin from harm; whether it be from the Bingley family or his own. But he knew that no matter how cruel Mr and Mrs Bingley had been, it was nothing compared to the Fitzwilliam family.

"Ah, so you've emerged," Darcy drawled, when he spied the groom as he detached himself from the crowd of well-wishers and made his way across the room. Chase beamed at him.

"I'm married," he stated proudly. Darcy chuckled.

"Yes, I'm aware. So were you celebrating the wedding night a little early, or were you just getting drunk?" he questioned with a smirk, forgetting his troubles for a moment. Chase's enthusiasm was contagious.

"Jan and I just wanted a little time alone before the party, that's all," he defended, but the twinkle in his eyes confirmed Darcy's suspicions, and he found himself laughing before he swallowed back a glass of champagne.

"Oh, lord, Chase, you'll make a wonderful husband," he chuckled, clapping his friend on the back. Chase beamed.

"I hope so. Jeez, the place looks nice," he commented, looking about the beautifully decorated room. The pastels from Carol's decorations looked lovely, and even the orchids worked brilliantly. The room was full with an odd hundred and fifty guests, some dancing as the band played a few lively classical tunes, others sitting at the tables on the edge of the room with drinks and conversation. It was still early, and dinner wasn't going to be served for another hour or two, but no one seemed bothered with that. "Reminds me of Pemberley a bit, this place. Not as big, but classy," he added thoughtfully.

"I've been away so long I'm almost forgetting what it looks like," Darcy sighed nostalgically.

He had been thinking about Pemberley a great deal recently. He found himself thinking of which room he would give to Eerin as her own private study, how they might make a few changes to the master bedroom, and possibly putting a spa in the en suite – he could think of nothing more appealing than Eerin and a spa. He was hoping to indulge in that particular fantasy that very night, he had made separate arrangements with the hotel for their private suite that they would share that night before going back to Sydney the next day.

"You'll be back soon," Chase laughed, glancing over his shoulder to find Darcy's line of vision. He was staring at Eerin, of course, as she danced with that friend of hers, Hamish. "So. When will you two be getting hitched?" he questioned teasingly.

"Another year, at most, I think. We'll see how the England trip goes," he answered almost instantly. Chase coughed in surprise.

"Really? Not jumping the gun a bit, are we?" he exclaimed with great amusement. Darcy shrugged, and sipped his drink.

"I've been thinking about it a lot recently. I know we have a great deal to experience before marriage comes onto the table, but I want to go back to England next year, and I'd like her to come with me," he explained simply. Chase raised a brow.

"_Like_?" he repeated doubtfully.

"Well, let's just say that I won't be living in a different country to her – if she wants to stay here, I'll stay. But I don't want to stay, and I don't think she does either," he clarified, his eyes still trained on her from across the room.

"Shame. Jan and I are probably going to stay in Sydney," Chase replied with slight bitterness.

"You'll come back. I know what you're like," he smiled. Chase rolled his eyes.

"If I will, I won't be staying in London. Mum and Dad have been driving me mental, and they've only been here a few days," he grumbled morosely.

"Come to Derbyshire. Eerin and Jannali will be happy to be together," he suggested.

"When you two are settled, we'll go over. I don't want to raise little Xavier without his Aunt and Uncle," Chase smirked. Darcy cringed.

"Xavier?"

"We're working on it. But we found out it's going to be a boy," he smiled, almost bashfully. Darcy beamed.

"Congratulations. And as long as you don't call him Xavier, I'm sure he'll be a credit to you," he assured him, pulling his friend into a short hug.

"It's a nice name!"

"For a drugged up hippy folk singer, perhaps."

"Well what are you calling your sons?"

"Respectable, English names. Edmund, James, Henry, that sort," he defended sensibly. Chase scoffed.

"With a mother who renamed your cat Sergeant Quincely Norman Fur-Face?" he challenged pointedly. Darcy shrugged.

"I'll let her do the middle names."

"Good luck. I hope you know, Xavier Chase will be teasing the shit out of Edmund Ninja, James Pirate-Wench and Henry Pokémon-Master Darcy," he advised with a smirk.

"What awesome names!" came an excited exclamation from behind, as a laughing Eerin skipped up to the arguing pair.

"Just talking about... pet names. I'm thinking of getting a turtle for the Bingley Baby," Chase sniggered, noting Darcy's scowl.

"I like 'Frederick Louis Igmund Philippe', because you can call them 'FLIP' for short," she smiled cheerfully. Chase covered his mouth when he started to guffaw, and Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Oh Lord. There should be a law against that," he sighed. Eerin laughed.

"Probably. Come on then you two, the photographer is here and he wants to get the afternoon light," she commanded, grabbing both men by their sleeves and pulling them out of the dining hall.

* * *

Carol was not having a good time. After those disgusting Beaumonts had insulted her family in the car, and Darcy had snubbed her in the foyer, she was filling with anger and resentment. She hated Australia, she hated the Beaumonts and she _especially_ hated Jannali for trapping her brother into a shotgun wedding.

She was steaming with anger as she posed for supposedly cheerful photos with the entire unpleasant bunch. Things just weren't turning out right. Everything was falling apart in front of her – the one hope she clung to was that there really was nothing going on between Darcy and Eerin. But she simply couldn't be sure! Sometimes they shared glances that said so, but that was hardly proof, and she knew that Darcy found her attractive.

"I want you to get _plenty_ of candid photos," she said sternly to the photographer when they finished the official portraits. "Particularly of the couples – not just the bride and groom, but the best man and the maid of honour as well," she advised, glancing over her shoulder to see the two chatting. "And I want everything sent to me before I approve what you print in the album," she added quietly.

"We don't normally –" the man began, before he was silenced with the narrowing of her eyes and the tight scowl of her lips. "Of course," he muttered, lowering his head, and scampering away.

Carol turned back to watch the two speaking together. She sighed. She simply didn't know, but she needed proof, either way.

* * *

"God, Jan really picks the soppy ones," Eerin sighed as the opening verse of Savage Garden's 'Truly Madly Deeply' began to play by the band. The couple moved into the middle of the room, all tentative smiles and soft blushes as they began to dance.

"Don't like this song?" Darcy smiled, turning his eyes from the couple to the woman sitting beside him. She looked particularly lovely in her pale pink dress, a soft smile on her full lips.

"Of course I do. But it's a bit cliché," she laughed, leaning her head against her palm, her arm resting on the back of the chair.

"What would you have?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Something a bit more original. I really like that Meat Loaf song we danced to before, '_One More Kiss_'. It gets me every time – but it's not really a 'first dance as man and wife' song," she continued thoughtfully.

"I thought we'd have the first song we danced to together," he said quietly, with a secretive smile.

"_The Promise_?"

"Very fitting, I think," he laughed. She smiled, and nodded, tearing her eyes away from the couple to look at him for a moment.

"You've been mentioning marriage a lot recently. And I know you were talking about baby names with Chase," she challenged suddenly. Darcy shrugged with a small grin, taking a sip of his champagne.

"Your point?" he questioned airily.

"We've only been together for a little while."

"True."

"I'm only twenty."

"You'll grow out of that."

She laughed, her eyes dancing with his cheek.

"You're so weird," she sighed fondly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"So... are you saying that if I were to ask you a specific question, your answer would be less than positive?" he questioned, trying to sound as if he weren't worried, but in truth, he was.

"Right now, probably. But I know you wouldn't ask me now, because you're much too clever for that," she returned simply. "Later, my answer will be different. Yesterday I might have said yes, because I thought marriage was a bit stupid, really. Just a bit of paper," she admitted, casting her eyes back to the dancing couple. "But when I see them together, and I see how much they love each other, and how happy they are... it's not what I thought it was. I think you have to go through a lot to get there, and they have. We haven't," she concluded. Darcy felt like scoffing.

"I think we have."

"We've argued, and it's been tricky seeing each other. That's nothing compared to what they went through," she objected.

"I can't pretend I know what it was like for them. But remember, we didn't exactly start off well," he replied simply. She sighed, and nodded, and returned her gaze to the couple.

"We're young. We've got a lot to experience first."

"_You_ are young. I'll be thirty-five soon," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes.

"You're not exactly dying."

"He will be soon," came Hamish's laughing voice as he strolled up to the table. "A dance, fair lady?" he questioned Eerin, doing a dramatic, slightly ridiculous bow. Eerin laughed.

"I have to dance with Will first, bridesmaid and best man after the newlyweds, Hames," she reminded him, her eyes sparkling. Hamish scoffed.

"Silly traditions. Alright, you dance with him and I'll come fetch you after, Princess," he instructed, turning to Darcy and staring at him in silence.

"What?" he questioned after a moment of scowling.

"Well? Go dance with the lady!" Hamish laughed. Darcy rolled his eyes, and rose to his feet, taking Eerin's hand as the song changed to a slightly less soppy love song, Herb Albert's '_This Guy's in Love With You'_.

"Your friend annoys me," Darcy murmured with a frown as they made their way to the centre of the room, couples tentatively joining them.

"He's harmless," she laughed.

"I don't care," he scowled. She grinned.

"You're sexy when you're jealous," she smiled, placing her hands on his chest. He gave a slight smirk.

"You're trying to distract me from being angry," he chuckled.

"Is it working?" she questioned, raising a single brow.

"Very well."

His laughter joined hers, and he began to feel lighter. He loved being near her, he loved holding her and dancing with her, it didn't matter who was watching because for once they had the right to be together in public.

"See, this is better. This was my parent's first dance as man and wife. It was old even then, but it's a classic," she sighed happily as they slowly moved across the floor.

"Art Garfunkel's first solo album came out only a few days before my parent's wedding, but my mother loved him and demanded that they play '_All I Know_' on the record player for their first dance. The band must have been devastated," he chuckled in response.

"Your Mum had good taste."

"She had a very large record collection – it takes up a whole room in Pemberley. I don't think I've ever really listened to any of them," he said thoughtful. Eerin's jaw dropped.

"You have a _room_ of vintage records? Let's go to England now, please," she said excitedly. He laughed.

"We'll see if we can get up to Pemberley and I'll show them to you," he promised. She beamed with excitement.

"It's a date."

The song ended too quickly, and Hamish appeared to claim Eerin for a dance. Darcy watched them for a moment, but he didn't feel as if he could trust himself not to intervene. He didn't like how close Hamish and Eerin were – it unnerved him. He found himself strolling on the edges of the room, before he slipped into a quiet parlour that led off from the main party.

He wasn't surprised to see Warrain Beaumont sitting alone with a book on his lap in a comfortable armchair by the fire. He didn't look up when he entered – but Darcy was sure he knew of his presence. Deciding it was probably the best moment, if not the only one, Darcy found himself taking a seat in the armchair opposite Mr Beaumont.

Warrain glanced at Darcy out of the corner of his eye, but then resumed reading. Darcy waited, but he wasn't sure what for.

"Mister Beaumont, I was wondering if I might have a word with you," he said finally, after the man had turned three pages.

"You probably could, but that depends on your definition of 'a word'. If it's just the one, then I'm perfectly content with that. You'd be pushing it with two," he warned, not looking up from the page.

"I know we haven't previously been introduced, I'm William Darcy, I teach Eerin's class in Symbology and Iconography at Sydney University," he informed him, reaching forward to shake his hand. Warrain stared at it, and reluctantly took the gesture.

"I assume you have something important to tell me?" he questioned dryly. Darcy shifted nervously.

"Yes, actually. About your daughter," he murmured. Warrain immediately closed his book.

"Someone I actually like discussing. So, what has she done?" he asked immediately, sitting back with avid attention. It rather unnerved Darcy.

"Nothing, I can assure you. She's quite brilliant, and it's very clear that she has a passion for the field," he answered immediately. Warrain smirked.

"Oh dear. Well then, I think I know where this is going," he drawled. Darcy was beginning to feel rather nervous.

"And what is your suspicion?" he asked almost tentatively.

"I'm not blind, boy. I know that I have some very pretty daughters, but Rinny is something special," he began sternly, folding his hands on his lap.

"Of which I am quite aware, Mister Beaumont."

"So, what exactly is your relationship with my daughter?" he demanded severely, his dark brown eyes taking him in warily.

"We are... in a more intimate relationship than you would expect of a student and teacher," Darcy answered slowly, avoiding eye contact.

"I guess she's been kipping with you these past few weeks? She's hardly ever at home, and I didn't think she'd be living at Jan's old place without cause," he commented, almost teasingly.

"Yes. We, uh, have been in a relationship for several weeks now," he explained shortly.

"Are you asking for any sort of permission?" he asked sternly. Darcy shook his head.

"Not at present, but it's definitely in the future."

"Then good. How old are you, boy?" he questioned with a slight frown.

"I'll be thirty-five later this year," he answered dutifully. Warrain scoffed.

"Well, that's a pretty big age gap, but I suppose it's not as bad as mine," he shrugged, with a slightly pained smile. "Eighteen years between myself and the wife. I wouldn't advise you spend the rest of your life with someone who makes you hate the fact that you're old," he commented.

"I already feel old, Mister Beaumont, but it has nothing to do with Eerin," Darcy answered honestly. Warrain sighed.

"I don't approve whatsoever, and you certainly don't have my blessing. I'm getting too old to pull out a shotgun, but if Eerin likes you enough then it's none of my business," he said plainly. Darcy nodded.

"We felt it best you know."

"Well, I know now. I wouldn't tell Fiona, though," he advised. Darcy gave another quick nod.

"Actually, I'm planning on taking Eerin back to England with me in two months. I'd like her to meet my family," he added suddenly, deciding it was best to have all his cards of the table. Warrain frowned.

"You're pushing it, boy."

"With all due respect, Mister Beaumont, I love your daughter. And I know what it's like, I raised a child only a few years younger than Eerin," he responded earnestly. Warrain rolled his eyes.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better about this situation?" he drawled.

"I know how difficult it can be to see your daughter grow up and make her own decisions. Lord knows I would find it almost impossible to deal with any man Ana decided to leave the country with, but I would never hurt Eerin. I love her too much for that," he insisted firmly.

Warrain sighed.

"Well, I don't know why you're trying to prove yourself. She makes her own decisions," he shrugged simply. "But look after her. I doubt you're good enough for Rin, but you can always try harder," he finished with a wry grin, before picking up his book again, closing the conversation.

Darcy released a relieved breath as he rose to his feet and slipped out of the parlour. He didn't know if Warrain's reaction was good or bad, the man had seemed strangely uninterested in the matter. For a moment he almost pitied Eerin for her father, because he could never imagine not wanting to be an active part of Ana's life, but he refused to think on the matter for too long, he was at a wedding, for goodness sake.

He found himself standing on the edges of the dance floor, watching as Hamish playfully spun Eerin around the room. He felt himself frowning without even realising.

_They're just friends_, he reminded himself, turning away. He didn't like watching them together, but he hated the blinding jealousy that he felt when he tried to ignore it. He didn't enjoy being childish and possessive, but he was the kind of man who had been fasting for so long, and now that he finally saw what he wanted, he wasn't going to share it with anyone.

So, without anything better to think of, Darcy hung around the edges of the party with a brooding expression. He refused to dance when he was offered, and he refused to converse when it was requested of him. He didn't care if people thought him rude; he was too busy watching Eerin.

It took quite some time for the party to begin to wind down. Guests who had to return to the city or other areas left at about nine, and slowly people began to trickle away. Everyone was in good spirits with the alcohol, good food and happy events, and people were still dancing. Eerin had been dancing with Hamish for a good hour at least, before she danced with Carmen, and then Jan, and then one of her cousins, and then seemingly all of her female friends. She even dragged a sallow-faced Maiya up from her chair, where she had been reading Edgar Allen Poe with the upmost focus.

"My sister told me to ask you if you were going to do something other than sit around," the young girl stated glumly, surprising Darcy as she stormed up to him, arms folded over her simple black dress. He blinked in surprise.

"I'm sorry?" he questioned.

"Rin. She was having a laugh about how you were wandering around being so miserable, and she told me to tell you to do something," she shrugged, glaring at him as if he were the cause of all her teenage problems.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," he assured her. "You're Maiya, am I correct?" he questioned. She blinked in surprise.

"Yeah. Who told you?" she demanded with a narrowed brow.

"Jannali showed me a picture of you, I was helping her with the slideshow," he explained. She groaned in realisation, glancing over her shoulder to the projector screen that he had been watching with mild curiosity for the past fifteen minutes as a range of childhood photos passed over the screen.

"Yeah, well, it's nice that you remembered my name, but don't even bother pretending you give a damn," she drawled, moving to walk away.

"I have a daughter about your age. Well, she's not really my daughter, but I raised her, regardless," he commented. She stopped, and turned back to him.

"Good for her. She live in this hell-hole?" she questioned curtly.

"No, she still lives in England," he answered.

"Lucky. I wish I didn't live with my parents," she muttered bitterly. Darcy felt nervous around the girl – it was as if she wanted to heap her problems onto him, and he wasn't prepared for that.

"Are you at university yet?" he questioned curiously, wishing to change the topic. She shook her head.

"Nope. I work at Borders, I'm trying to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life," she shrugged simply, and ruffled her black and red hair. "I applied, but I didn't know what I wanted to do. I'll probably go next year," she added, sounding slightly less hostile.

"What are you interested in?"

"Gothic literature and the feminist movement. If you can think of a career I could get out of that, then tell me," she drawled, before rolling her eyes. "You know what, don't even bother. I'm tired of people pretending they give a damn. I'll see you around, whoever you are," she said finally, before walking away from him.

Darcy cast his eyes back to Eerin, who had missed the entire exchange. He sighed. They were so different, but then again, she was very different to the rest of her family herself.

After the band played one more song, Darcy was slightly annoyed to see Hamish stroll up to the instruments and pull out his own acoustic guitar. The music was soft and slow, people moving from side to side with the music, as opposed to dancing.

He watched the soft expression on Eerin's face as he listened to the lyrics coming from that young man's throat.

"_I really want you, I really want you,_

_I really want you, now,_

_No matter what I say or do, the message isn't getting through,_

_And you're listening to the sound of my breaking heart,"_

Darcy felt himself scowling again. Could he be anymore obvious? He was staring at Eerin from his small stage as he sang – didn't he know that she was taken?

He practically threw himself into a chair and brooded as he listened to an endless list of love songs, all the while with Eerin dancing with one or two of her friends or family members, smiling up at him. It felt like an age before it was announced that the bride and groom would be cutting the cake, and he finally stopped playing. Darcy rose to his feet and watched carefully as Eerin pulled Hamish into a hug, and the man placed a kiss on her forehead. They were laughing with their arms around each other's waists, and a sense of anger was filling Darcy before he knew what was happening.

He found himself storming towards them with no knowledge of his actions until he stood before the couple. Hamish gave him a weak smile, and Eerin was frowning; she could tell he was angry, but it was almost as if she didn't know why.

"Are you alright?" she questioned warily.

"Fine. Or at least I would be if you were perhaps a little less obvious," he growled between clenched teeth. She raised a brow.

"I'm sorry?"

"If only you were," Darcy snapped, before taking one look at Hamish and walking away, his first clenched. He didn't trust himself not to hit anyone, despite the attention of the remaining party fixed on the newly married couple.

Darcy stormed into a small parlour a few doors down from the grand dining hall. He threw his coat down at the ornate sofa, wishing it made a crash or broke something important so there was recognition of his anger. He could hear someone running to catch up with him, but did not turn.

"You're being an idiot," Eerin stated with exasperation.

"He was touching you. He kissed you. And I've heard those songs, Eerin!" he threw back angrily, not even looking up at her as he began to pace the small room. "The boy is in _love_ with you! How can you not see this?" he questioned incredulously. He heard her sigh.

"First of all, he's _way _too old to be just a 'boy'," she replied diligently. Darcy scoffed loudly, to which she scowled. "You're being irrational. He doesn't love me, we're just friends," she assured firmly.

"Oh, I'm being _irrational_? So the next time I see some _man_ with his arm around you, kissing you and laughing with you, I'm supposed to sit back and watch?" he demanded angrily, sending her a fiery glare. She looked slightly... well, frightened, if he wanted to be honest.

A little part of him was happy that she was scared. A little part of him wanted to shout at her, to say horrible things, to make her cry and fight and defend herself.

"Hamish does _not_ have feelings for me, William! Not like that!" she snapped.

"And how the hell do you know? All those songs, Eerin, they could very well be about _you_!" he retorted, wishing he didn't sound as pathetic and bitter as he really did. "I'm not going to watch him try to take you away from me!"

"Will, do you really have such little faith in me?" she questioned, sounding somewhat injured. He glanced back to her once more. "I'm not cheating on you. I love _you_, Will. I love _you_ and Hamish is just a friend, I swear," she insisted firmly. He stopped pacing.

"That doesn't explain those songs, and the way he was touching you," he petulantly accused. She sighed wearily, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"He was giving me a hug. We were laughing, he kissed my forehead. I've known him since I was thirteen, Will!" she cried exasperatedly. He continued to pace angrily. "Why are you so damn jealous? You _know_ that you're the only guy I want to be with," she continued.

"And it would make sense! He's closer to your age, you've known him for longer, you're in a band together!" he raved wildly, not hearing her protests. "You wouldn't have to sneak around with him, your family probably love him, what could be more perfect?" he questioned sarcastically.

"How damn insecure do you have to _be_, Will?"

"I don't want him touching you again. I don't want _any_ man touching you. I don't even want _women_ to touch you!" he decided firmly, glaring at the floor as if it were responsible for his pain.

"You're being an idiot, Darcy."

"I do _not_ share, Eerin Beaumont," he snapped finally, pausing his anxious pace before her, glaring down at those sea-green and amber eyes. His voice trembled with force and passion; it sent shivers down her spine. "Hamish has every reason to love you. Who wouldn't? You're –" he stopped, and gave an angry sigh. "I want you to quit the band. I don't want you to see him anymore. Not if he has feelings for you," he practically commanded. She glared at him with the full force of her emotions, making it quite clear that she wasn't frightened before she spoke again.

"His wife died."

Darcy blinked in surprise, wondering if he had misheard. The anger flashing in Eerin's eyes suggested to him that he hadn't.

"His wife, Naomi. She died earlier this year," she repeated calmly.

"Oh."

He practically winced at the stupidity of his mutterings. It was pathetic and insufficient.

"She moved here from Ireland about five or six years ago, she met Hamish, she played the cello in our band, they fell in love and got married. She was diagnosed with leukaemia last year," she informed him pointedly. "So all those love songs? They're from a widower to his dead wife, to _my friend_, and he still needs me to get through this, so I'm not quitting the band, I'm not going to stop seeing him, I'm going to be his friend until he thinks he can handle everything that he's had taken away from him over the past year," she snapped, her voice practically trembling with force and emotion.

"I – I didn't know," Darcy said helplessly as she stepped away from him, her arms folded.

"Yeah. You damn well didn't, but that's no excuse," she retorted angrily. "I can understand if you might have gotten the signals crossed with Hamish, you've only met him once or twice. But how can you doubt _me_, Darcy?" she questioned, her voice made up of incredulity mixed with true hurt. "I _love_ you! I've been lying to the people that love me for _weeks_ for you, and you still doubt me?' she demanded, before biting her bottom lip and lowering her dark eyes in anger. He thought he saw a tear slip from her eyes, but he couldn't be sure.

"I..." he began, his voice trembling with restrained emotion. "I've lost so much, Eerin. I've lost everything I ever loved and it took me eighteen years to get over that pain," he said quietly. "You... you don't understand how important you are to me. Just the thought of..." he stopped, his words choked in his throat. He huffed and stared determinedly at the fireplace, fighting the urge to cry. "I keep thinking of that day after class when you turned me away, and how horrible that was, and I keep thinking how old and... distant I must seem to you, and how – how any day now you're going to wake up and wonder what the hell you're doing," he managed to get out, before sniffling slightly.

He felt bare and exposed, like he had just stripped himself of his last defence and now stood naked before her to face her judgement. His words were heavy with meaning and vulnerability, and he found himself wondering if he was standing in the middle of the turning point of their relationship. It was a shift, not physical, because he had felt moments between the sheets of his bed when they seemed to merge into one being as they held each other with tightened, trembling hands, but it was something stronger than that. He just didn't know if it was a shift for the better.

"You said before that I'm the one leading this relationship, I'm the 'domineering one'," he reminded her after a cough that sounded a little like a sob. His voice was much weaker than he had expected. "But you have me completely in your power. I... I'm completely at your mercy and it terrifies me. It terrifies me, how strongly I feel for you, how... undeserving of the way you make me feel," he murmured to his shoes. He cleared his throat and spoke again, his voice stronger. "So, there you have it. I'm pathetic, but I'll always be insecure and jealous and irrational and... and an idiot, because I still can't believe how lucky I am to have you," he informed her, somewhat awkwardly.

Eerin sighed, but it turned more into a huff.

"I had such a good rant going, and then you have to get all sweet and... and _you_-like," she muttered petulantly. Darcy met her eyes and gave a small, crooked smile. "And you know I can't resist that smile, it'd make me agree to anything," she said sulkily, the corner of her lip twitching.

"Five children, a dog and a Derbyshire postcode?" he offered somewhat meekly. She scoffed.

"Not this again," she huffed. "Will, you have to stop bringing this whole marriage thing up! Is it just because you're jealous that Chase got married before you?" she demanded.

Darcy didn't respond for a moment. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He thought of her question.

Was she right? Was he merely bitter that his best friend was now a happily married husband, while he had to sneak around with Eerin?

"Perhaps. But – but it doesn't mean I don't want to marry you," he insisted firmly. She sighed, and stepped forwards with a soft smile.

"And I want to marry you too. Just not right now. I'm not even ready for the reality of an engagement, let alone a marriage," she said, her voice both gentle and firm. "This relationship, _any _relationship, even without the whole 'teacher-student' thing, needs time to grow a bit. No matter how much we care about each other, it's just too fast to make sense. It doesn't mean that I don't love you, it just means that we're not ready," she continued, when he looked like he wished to protest. "And besides, we should give my sister a chance to shine a little, alright?" she suggested. Darcy pulled her into his arms and rested his chin atop her head.

"I'm sorry. I know I've been –"

"Don't even say it. Lets just get this year over with, and we'll see what happens next," she murmured into his chest. He closed his eyes and revelled in the feel of her body against his. It was all he really wanted, after all.

* * *

"There you are! Did you get some good shots?" Carol demanded when she cornered the photographer in the hallway. He almost blanched to see her, but she didn't care, she knew she had a tendency to frighten the weak.

"I think so," he squeaked in answer. She rolled her eyes, and grabbed the camera from around his neck, tugging his entire body towards her as she turned it on, and began to flick through the pictures.

"These are all fine," she snapped, but didn't mention that she couldn't seem to find what she was looking for.

And then she stopped.

"When did you take these?" she questioned, staring at the set of images before her on the small LCD screen.

"I was just coming back from the men's room and the door was open, you said you wanted some shots of this couple," he explained sheepishly. Carol took in the photo before her. Eerin Beaumont, sitting on Darcy's lap on some chintzy sofa, a laughing smile on her face and his lips on her shoulder. She continued to flick through them, there were only a few, but it said all she needed to know.

"Good. Send them to me first," she said finally, before releasing him. The camera swung back into his stomach from the strap around his neck, and he stumbled back as if winded. She scoffed and stormed away, out of the party and down to the hall.

She stopped suddenly when she heard voices.

"... might have found a nicer suite," she heard a familiar masculine voice say from around the corner.

"Our room was really nice!" a feminine voice defended.

"But this one has a spa. I had a few ideas on how we could put that to use," the man chuckled.

"Shouldn't we tell someone where we're going?"

"They'll know where you are, and they're all drunk anyway," she man brushed her off. The voices were getting quieter, as if they were walking away. Carol clung to the wall like a gecko, her sharp ears listening for the rest of the conversation.

"They might get worried!" she girl exclaimed.

"Fine then, go back and kindly inform the entire ballroom that you'll be upstairs shagging your professor. I'm sure they'll understand," he sniggered.

"Alright then – but only because I really like spa baths."

"You'll like them a lot more when I'm through with you," the man chuckled.

Carol followed as swiftly and as silently as she could, pulling her iPhone from her purse as she scampered up the stairs to follow the couple. She stayed out of their vision until they arrived at the first floor. She stopped just by the stairs, and could see them clearly. She cursed the 'click' of her camera as she snapped up as many shots as she could while the happy couple went into their private room, lips on necks, arms around waists.

She smirked when the door closed.

Eerin Beaumont wasn't going to know what hit her.

**A/N: Hamish sang 'I Really Want You' by James Blunt. Next chapter; some serious revelations from both our protagonists, and the last of Laura :D Hope this has cleared the marriage issue, which won't be coming up again for a while. Please review!**


	31. Of Secrets and Sharing

"_And it's the darkest side of my heart that dies,_

_When you come to me_

_And it's the golden ticket that I win,_

_When you kill my enemies,_"

-The Middle East, 'The Darkest Side'

"You should have come last night," Carol commented airily to Laura as they climbed out of the taxi at Sydney airport.

"I don't think I would have been welcome, Carol," she drawled bitterly. "I'm going straight back to London and forgetting about William Fitz Darcy – I've had it," she snapped with an angry sigh, running a hand through her dark hair and gripping her suitcase handle, dragging the expensive Italian leather luggage behind her. "And are you coming back soon?" she demanded with a raised brow. Carol shrugged.

"Perhaps when my brother gets back from his honeymoon with the slut," she answered airily. Laura rolled her eyes as they walked through the large glass doors into the international terminal.

"I know you're waiting for Darcy to fall into your arms, but I don't think he will," she warned sternly. "I mean, he never looked at _me_ the way he looked at that girl. I think he might be sold, even if she is just a prostitute," she sighed petulantly, her heels click-clacking as she stormed up to the check in gate.

"Before you go, is this the girl?" Carol questioned curiously, casually, as if it didn't really matter to her as she pulled out her iPhone and flashed the image of Eerin Beaumont laughing with Darcy's arms wrapped around her waist and his lips on her neck as he pulled her into their hotel room. Laura's eyes widened.

"Yes! That's the girl! Was she at the wedding last night?" she exclaimed in complete shock.

"She's almost fifteen years younger than him," Carol commented, to which Laura scowled, and raised a self-conscious hand to her skin.

"I should have known he'd turn me out for a younger model," she sighed bitterly.

"Don't worry. They won't last."

Laura glanced to her friend with a slight frown.

"I don't hate him, you know. I don't want him to be miserable," she stated quite honestly, her hand tightening over her suitcase handle. She looked out a little sadly across the airport. "I mean, if he wants this girl then he can have her. I don't think there's anything you or I can do," she added, a little quietly.

"Trust me, there's plenty I can do. She's one of his students, Laura. The ball is in my court," Carol replied, with a wide, almost cruel smile.

Laura frowned. "Carol, I know you... this isn't the way to get him. He'll just end up hurt," she said, her voice soft but loaded with warning.

Carol shrugged, and then stepped forward to press a kiss to either side of her friend's cheeks. "Alright, have a good trip, dear, and I'll see you soon," she assured her, before waving goodbye and stalking out of the airport with a definite sense of purpose.

Laura watched her go with a slightly drooping jaw.

What was Carol Bingley up to?

* * *

Eerin gave a sleepy yawn as she washed the massage oil from her hands in the staff bathroom at her mother's day spa. She dried her hands and ran her fingers through her short locks with a thoughtful sigh.

"Thinking of another change? Please don't go short again, that bob is adorable," Hannah begged, approaching her friend from behind as she emerged from the change rooms in her work uniform.

"I'm thinking of dying it before I go on holiday," she answered thoughtfully, twirling one plain brown lock around a slim finger.

"God, make your mind up. Yesterday you wanted a tattoo, today you want a new hair colour, what's up with you?" she questioned with a pronounced frown.

"Cherry red, I think. Or maybe grey. Like Tavi Gevinson. And I'm still getting a tattoo, I just haven't picked one yet," she retorted instantly, as if she hadn't heard Hannah's comments.

"Would your man approve?" she challenged with a raised brow that Eerin could see out of the reflection of the mirror.

"How did you know I'm seeing someone?" she asked with a frown of suspicion. Hannah laughed.

"What, as if I'd miss all those hickeys? And the constant phone calls with that ridiculous, 'no you hang up' nonsense?" she retorted teasingly. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"Shut up. I haven't mentioned it to him, but I don't think he'd disapprove," she answered, turning back to the mirror. "I guess I have to wait to do all that when I come back, though. You know, I'm meeting his family there," she said excitedly. Hannah gave a low whistle.

"Nice. You two are serious, then?"

"Pretty serious. He wants to get married next year," she explained with a shrug. Hannah grinned.

"Oh, you'll be the most wonderful house-wife," she sighed, clapping her friend on the shoulders. Eerin rolled her eyes. "So you're not nervous to meet the family then?" she questioned, stepping before her own mirror and pulling her hair back with a tie she kept on her wrist. Eerin shrugged.

"I don't think so. I mean, I've met at least four of his family members so far, two cousins, an aunt and a sister, so I think I've got an idea of how it's going to be," she explained. "I guess I'm more looking forward to the romantic week in a French Mediterranean château before we go to meet his family. He's very sweet when he wants to be," she smiled with a soft, dreamy sigh. Hannah laughed, and rolled her eyes.

"It's cute that you're excited. I don't envy you, though. Serious relationships suck, you have to be honest with the bloke," she replied, pulling her lipstick from her purse and pouting in front of the mirror. "Is it weird? That he knows all your deep-dark secrets?" she asked thoughtfully.

Eerin lowered her eyes with a thoughtful frown.

"Ooh, _does_ he? Keeping something from him?" she questioned daringly. Eerin scoffed.

"Nothing important. Besides, there's a lot he hasn't told me," she shrugged, before stepping into the changing room with her bag.

"Like what?"

"Well, his parents died a long time ago, and he did something kind of crazy. He raised his sister from a baby all by himself, but people kept trying to take her off him, and he won't tell me why," she called out from inside the room.

"Sounds juicy. So it that bigger or smaller than whatever you're keeping from him?" Hannah challenged.

Eerin stopped changing as she thought. _Was_ it? She couldn't really know until she found out – and with little more than a week before she and Darcy left for France, she thought it was probably important that she knew before they left.

"Maybe."

"Ask him about it, and then tell him your secret. Do a trade," Hannah suggested. Eerin continued changing.

"Maybe," she muttered, more for herself than for her friend. From there, thankfully Hannah changed the conversation to the usual; did she miss her sister, when was she getting back from her honeymoon, how school had been going, was she excited to go to France, but their earlier topic didn't leave her mind, not on the drive back to her parent's house in Merryton, not through dinner with her loud family, and not on the quiet drive to Sydney later to spend the night at Darcy's flat, her real home.

"You're quiet," he commented eventually, about an hour after she had returned. They were sitting on the balcony overlooking the city with a bottle of wine and Boots snuggling around her ankles.

"I can be quiet sometimes," she smiled, taking a sip of her wine and shifting to lean against his side on the outdoor settee. He chuckled, and ran a hand slowly over one shoulder blade.

"When you're sleeping, yes. But you're much too conscious to be this quiet," he teased. She rolled her eyes.

"I don't like this new sense of humour you've developed – it's upsetting," she frowned. He gave a chuckle.

Things had been going very well for her and Darcy. She still spent the weekend in the Shire, much to his chagrin, but through the week they were together, and able to enjoy each other's company at their own leisure. Things had been going so well, that Eerin was growing suspicious.

Perhaps there _were_ divides in their relationship that needed to be broken down? After all, it was very clear that he was serious about her; marriage was spoken about as if it were a not-too-distant and decidedly definite prospect. But she got the impression that perhaps... things needed to be sorted out first. There were questions that needed to be asked.

"What were you like when you were my age?" she questioned suddenly. He seemed surprised, but answered regardless.

"Uhh... I was always tired," he began thoughtfully. "I had finished my first degree, a bachelor of art and history. I was starting to publish a few things, but I was really dedicating myself to Ana. Things were difficult then," he explained with a slight shrug.

"How so?" she probed. He gave a pensive sort of frown.

"Well, at that time I was involved in a bit of a custody battle to keep Ana, my family were pressuring me a great deal, and I had a falling out with one of my friends," he answered with careful thoughtfulness.

"Chase? Richard?" she questioned curiously. He chuckled, and shook his head.

"No, I had another friend, once. I don't have many, but he was at Oxford with me, Arthur Skinner. We got into an argument about some show he wanted to see that I couldn't go to," he informed her with a wry smile.

"Didn't like the performer?"

"I had some sort of appointment for Ana, but I can't remember what it was now. I think it was something small and silly, but I was just looking for an excuse to cut Arthur out of my life. I didn't have the time for friends anymore," he shrugged, leaning back comfortably.

"You're very devoted to her," she commented quietly. He gave a small 'hmm' of affirmation.

"Yes, very much so. She's my little princess," he smiled. Eerin thought about how to proceed. She had so many burning questions she wanted to ask, but no idea of how to put them. She decided she needed to simply go for it – she had to know.

"I can't understand why anyone would try to take her away from you, when you clearly love her so much," she remarked suddenly, trying to make it sound casual, but there was a tremble in her voice that said otherwise.

"There were... difficult circumstances," he replied slowly. Eerin curled up tighter by his side.

"Like what?" she probed.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself with," he smiled, a slight expression of pain marring his features.

"But I want to worry myself about those things," she insisted. He sighed.

"Eerin, I'd rather not talk about it," he said flatly.

"But if we're going to England soon, isn't it important that I know these things?" she challenged. He huffed.

"Sometimes you're too clever for your own good," he practically growled.

"William, I just want to know," she said softly. He groaned painfully, and leant his head back on the settee, closing his eyes. It was some minutes before he spoke again, and Eerin was growing doubtful if he was going to resume their conversation at all.

"I was sixteen when I was taken out of class to speak with the Headmaster. He told me that my parents had both been killed that morning in a road accident. Ana had been home with the nanny," he began suddenly. His voice seemed slightly strained. "I – uh, I didn't really say anything in response. I walked out of the room, and then I just kept on walking. I walked right out of the school and up the road. There was some sort of event going on nearby, a lot of MPs and officials were visiting the old Windsor Castle, and there was... a helicopter there," he continued, the strain in his voice growing.

"Yeah, there aren't any castles in Windsor here. There's a pub, a pond, a couple of kitschy shops and a water-wheel. The roads are still cobbled, and there are cows _everywhere_," she commented, wrinkling her nose, trying to alleviate some of the tension in their conversation.

"I – uh, did something rather stupid, and I'm not exactly proud of it," he said carefully, lowering his eyes in shame.

"I know you stole it," she said quietly. He nodded, his gaze seeming strangely distant, as if he were back in England even as he spoke.

"Yes, I did. And I tried to crash it. I tried to kill myself, and probably a good few dozen other students with me," he admitted finally, trying to sound calm, but it was leaking through. The strain. The emotion. The past eighteen years of pain. She reached for his hand, and wound her fingers with his, squeezing it tightly. He gave a grateful sigh.

"I'm glad you didn't."

"I couldn't. I hadn't thought of Ana at all, not until I was right on top of the school. And then I – I just couldn't do it," he explained weakly. "And then I spent the next two decades alternating between hating myself for almost doing it, and hating myself for _not_ doing it," he practically spat.

"It would have been a waste of a brilliant, beautiful man," she insisted firmly, sliding up and pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. He scoffed slightly.

"A man who couldn't say a word for another year because he was too frightened he would start to cry," he practically spat. "A man who almost had his baby sister taken away from him, a little girl who needed his protection, because he couldn't programme on the slightest level. And the helicopter wasn't the only time I tried to kill myself – no, half a bottle of sleeping pills and I'm still here, wasting the air. Can't even kill myself right," he snapped bitterly.

"William Fitz Darcy, you are _not_ a waste of air. You love your sister, you're completely devoted to her," she said with firm conviction. "So what, you weren't coping? I have the crappiest relationship with my parents, and if they died, I'd still be so devastated I don't know what I'd do. You survived, and I'm _so_ proud of you for it," she continued, pressing a loving kiss to his mouth. He kissed her back with an almost frightening intensity, before stilling his lips and sighing against her mouth.

"You can't know how much it means to me that you said that," he murmured.

"Which part?" she questioned gently, raising her hand to his cheek, and gently stroking his face.

"That you're proud of me," he said softly, so softly that she almost didn't hear. "That's the first time in at least twenty years anyone has ever said that to me. Probably more," he murmured, slipping his arms around her shoulders and holding her to him tightly. "My parents weren't like you. They weren't as warm as you, but I still loved them. They didn't tell me they were proud or that they loved me, that's not how it worked," he explained with considerable pain in his voice.

"Well, I don't know about your parents, but I love you, and I'm incredibly proud of you. You were my hero when I was younger and you were just a face in a textbook, you know, and that hasn't changed," she insisted firmly. He gave a breathy sort of chuckle, and nodded.

"Thank you. So much. You..." he stopped himself, and gave a long sigh, shifting his hold on her and burying his head in her dark hair. "I don't think it was until now that I realised just how much I need you. How much I've been needing you for all these years," he murmured, reclining back on the settee and pulling her with him, his arms locked tightly around her body.

"I wish I'd known you when you were sixteen. I wish I could have been there for you then," she murmured.

"Yes, and as you were only one or two years old, I'm sure you would have been of wonderful support," he drawled teasingly. She laughed.

"Maybe not. But I wanted to meet you when I was a giddy little teenager, I remember thinking that you always looked sad, and I used to think of jokes I could tell you that would make you happier," she giggled, pressing her head to his neck.

"Any good ones?" he laughed. She thought for a moment.

"What's orange, and sound a parrot?" she asked after a short silence.

"No idea."

"A carrot."

Darcy groaned.

"Oh lord, that's terrible," he chuckled, only laughing because it was so pathetic. "Well, then I'm glad we didn't meet before, that would have only made me feel worse," he added teasingly. She scoffed.

"Hey, I'm funny. Sometimes," she defended. He nodded with a grin.

"Of course, darling," he assured her patronisingly, until she joined his laughter with hers. They took a moment to calm themselves, and they both gave a slow, relieved sort of sigh. "Thank you. I think I needed a conversation like that. I needed to get that off my chest," he commented almost lazily.

"Hey, we should have things out in the open, right?" she returned, with a slightly shaken sort of smile.

"I agree. Anything you want to tell me, then?" he questioned with a raised brow and a small smile. She shrugged.

"Yes. But not tonight," she replied, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

"Now I'm curious."

"Later. I'll tell you later," she assured him. He sighed.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to be content with that," he decided. Eerin gave him a cheeky grin.

"Well, I don't plan on us talking all night, you know. Plenty of other ways to keep busy," she teased, sliding off him and to her feet. Darcy chuckled as he watched her slip back into the flat with a playful grin on her lips.

It took him precisely two seconds before he was dutifully following her.

* * *

Eerin took a deep breath as she stepped out of the bedroom the next evening, her hands gripped tightly to a shoe box she had fetched from her bedroom back in the Shire the night before. She almost turned around and left the living room, and returned the box to the bottom of her bag so she could take it home and never show William her secrets.

But he'd shared with her, so it was only fair. And she'd been waiting to get it off her chest for a while.

"I thought you had an essay to work on tonight. What's that there?" Darcy questioned, turning his head with a smile as she entered the room. He looked as ridiculously handsome as usual, sitting lazily on the lounge with essay papers in one hand and a fat red pen in another.

"This is my box. I haven't told you about it before, and not many people know. In fact, only really Hamish found out about it. You shared with me, now I want to share with you," she declared with great determination as she seated herself beside him, her eyes fixed on the box held in her shaking hands. It didn't seem too extraordinary, just a plain shoebox covered in plain brown paper.

"Why do I have a crippling sense that this is something I'm not going to like?" Darcy questioned, sitting up and putting down his pen and papers. His voice sounded jovial, but she could hear a hint of concern beneath it. She gave a dry, bitter sort of laugh that sounded forced from the lowest part of her throat.

"Well, I can't imagine you're going to like it at all," she shrugged with a pained sort of sigh. She glanced up to see his lips curved into a soft, encouraging smile, but there was a tentativeness there that spoke of unease. "A few years ago I started to have this problem," she began firmly, returning her eyes to the box.

"What sort of... Eerin, you're not dying, are you?" Darcy questioned with sudden anxiety. She laughed, and shook her head firmly.

"No. Of course not," she assured him, and he gave a relieved sigh.

"Good. I – I'm much too fond of you for that," he replied with an awkward smile as he shifted closer to her on the lounge, taking her hand in his. She was very glad he had taken her hand – because what she had to say was going to be rather difficult.

"I want you to look at this box, to look at what's in it, and then tell me what you think that problem was when you've finished," she began quietly, passing the box to him. He frowned slightly, but nodded, and accepted the box, and made to take off the lid. "Wait!" she cried suddenly, before he could. Her whole body was trembling. "Please, don't – don't hate me when you've seen it. I know it's... well, I'll leave you to decide what you think it is. But d – don't hate me, please, William, I couldn't bear that," she practically whispered, her eyes wet with desperate tears.

"I could never hate you," he assured her with a small smile. He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently.

"And it was ages ago. I – I mean, I'm not exactly the same, and that's still going to take a lot of time, so please, don't push me when you find out. Hamish tried to push me and it only made things worse," she insisted.

"Eerin, what on earth is –"

"Just look at the box. Please," she said finally, unable to say much more. He looked to her in confusion, and then back to the box, and removed the lid as if he was wary something might leap out to cause him great harm.

A small wrinkle appeared between his brows that spoke of great confusion. He blinked as his eyes swept over the content of the box.

He didn't say anything as he pulled out the photos, the magazine clippings, the sketches, lists of foods and exercise regimes, a calendar that monitored weight loss, everything.

Eerin watched on with shame as his eyes cast over countless pictures of impossibly beautiful, impossibly skinny girls with glassy eyes and heroin-chic clothing hanging over their bony bodies. She felt raw and exposed as he continued to rummage through the box.

After what felt like an age he returned the lid, and put the box on the coffee table before him, saying nothing.

Eerin couldn't find words. She had no idea what she could possibly say to make things better, to change the fact that she had just exposed to him years of starvation in the sake of what she had thought was beautiful, and the fact that she _still_, despite all the pain and suffering she had gone through, thought those girls were stunning and couldn't help but wish that she had her old, beautiful body back, all lines and angles and loveliness.

After a few minutes of complete silence, Darcy rose to his feet and went to the kitchen. She heard him open a cupboard and take something out before he returned to the room. He picked up the box and stepped over to the fireplace.

Before she knew what he was doing, the red and gold flames were licking up her box with hunger.

"William! Don't! Get it out!" she cried angrily, leaping up as if her bare hands could save it.

"_Leave it_," he commanded angrily, pulling one arm around her body and pushing her back to the sofa as her box of guilty treasures burned. She clutched her hand to her mouth as the fire licked up the brown paper and cardboard and pictures eagerly. She was surprised to feel tears slipping from her eyes. "I don't want you to think about that at all. I don't want you to talk about it, I don't want you to – to _hurt_ yourself for something that isn't real!" he shouted furiously, shaking her body slightly to emphasise the force of his words. She was limp in his arms before he pulled her tightly to her chest, so tightly she thought she might break.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his chest. He shook his head firmly.

"No. Just... no," he murmured against her hair, increasing his already tight hold on her.

It wasn't how she'd wanted him to take it. She didn't know what she'd been expecting but... his complete and total disgust and denial had certainly not been it.

* * *

Darcy felt guilty, but his guilt wasn't so great that he stopped himself from getting Hamish's number from Eerin's phone while she was in the shower the next morning. He'd barely said a word to her last evening from the moment she showed him that hideous, horrible box. And she had barely said a word either, preferring to sit in silence with her eyes glassy and her expression vague. He made it a point to buy an extra serving of chips from the shop down the road when he fetched dinner, and glared at her as she played around with her food all through the meal.

She didn't eat, as if she were making a point back at him.

But, he realised, the signs had always been there. She had always been very slender, and she never ate much, she had even _said_ to him once or twice that she tried to eat only one meal a day. He knew how much she loved walking through Sydney, he hadn't realised that it was part of some sort of ridiculous exercise regime until he saw that damned box. Had she been trying to cry out for his attention and help before? How could he tell?

"Didn't think I'd be meeting you for lunch anytime soon," came a familiar, cheerful sort of voice from behind him as Hamish wandered over to his table in the pub. He looked his usual handsomely-scruffy self, with narrow-toed shoes, faded jeans, a singlet with some band or other sprawled over it and a plaid shirt he suspected Eerin occasionally borrowed.

"I can understand it might seem a bit unusual," Darcy shrugged simply, lowering his cup of coffee.

"So. S'bout Rinny, then?" Hamish questioned curiously, his hazel-green eyes taking in the illustrious person that was before him with slight confusion.

"The only thing I believe we have in common," he replied simply. Hamish sniggered.

"Too right. Come on then, mate, get it over and done with. You want me out of her life?" he suggested. Darcy considered his options.

"Yes, but that has nothing to do with why I called you," he shrugged. Hamish's eyes twinkled brightly with amusement.

"I'll bet," he murmured with a creeping smile. "So? What's this about?" he demanded.

"I want to know if she's spoken to you about her... problem," he began promptly, as if they were discussing a business transaction. Hamish was clearly offended by that cool reserve, as was evident by his eyebrows rising to disappear into his mop of light brown hair.

"Her _problem?_ You'll have to be a bit more specific," he practically drawled.

"How long did she have an eating disorder?" Darcy demanded pointedly. Hamish's mouth widened slightly.

"Ah. She told you about that?" he questioned with surprise.

"Yes. Last night," he snapped.

"Well why didn't you ask her?" Hamish challenged, his tone marked with his own sharpness. Darcy shook his head.

"No. I told her that she's not to discuss it ever again," he answered firmly. Hamish stared at him in disbelief, before giving a forced, bitter laugh.

"Oh, mate... I honestly can't see why she's so damn head-over-heels for someone like you," he said honestly, making to stand up and leave. He stopped himself suddenly, and sat back down. "No. You know what? Fuck you, William Fucking Darcy. How _dare_ you?" he demanded with a sudden burst of anger. "How dare you tell that kid that she can't talk to you about a serious problem she has? She needs _support_, she doesn't need some wanker of a boyfriend telling her it's not open for discussion!" he snapped, his eyes flashing darkly with anger.

"She needs to know that what she's been doing is unacceptable, it's not healthy and I don't want to lose her for something like this," he retorted pointedly, his calm only seeming to irritate Hamish more.

"She obviously _trusted_ you to confess something that she's never confessed before, and you decide to play caveman? Did you even say 'that's alright, sweetheart, I'm here for you?' Did you tell her you love her, so she doesn't think you find her disgusting now?" he questioned angrily.

Darcy lowered his eyes, his jaw tightening.

"That kid spent years starving herself within an inch of her life because she was _never_ called beautiful by anyone! Have you called her beautiful today, Darcy? Have you told her you love her today?" he demanded, his voice a low, insistent growl as he slammed his hand on the table. Pub patrons stared in curiosity, but Hamish obviously didn't care. "And you know what? She _still_ has a 'problem'. So you'd better head the fuck off home and make sure you've not screwed her over completely," he snapped finally.

"I didn't come here for you to criticise me. I wanted to know how serious it was," Darcy replied coolly.

"Ask her. I don't care if you're a fan of that whole British stiff-upper-lip thing, but that girl is like my damn _sister_, and I will _not_ let you fuck her over by ignoring something that's been literally eating her up inside for so long," Hamish finished angrily, before rising to his feet and storming out of the pub.

Darcy glared at his cup of coffee for a minute before taking some cash from his wallet and throwing it down on the table before leaving the pub.

He didn't know what to think. The thought of her doing something so ridiculously _stupid_, when she'd seemed so strong and resistant, was unimaginable, and his first instinct had been to block it out. He didn't want to think of it. He didn't want to think at all, he just wanted to go back in time and to have never known that his precious one had starved herself for the sake of beauty.

But the more he thought on it, the more he came to realise that perhaps Hamish had been right. Perhaps he shouldn't have told her she was to never discuss it again – perhaps she'd come to him, needing his love and understanding, and all he had given her was coldness and anger?

He wanted to kick himself for what he had done. He could barely focus through his lessons that day; his mind was so full of what a complete and total _prat_ he had been to the woman he loved, the woman he was supposed to leave the country with in only a week. The woman to whom he had confessed everything only forty-eight hours ago.

He waited in silence for her to return from a late lecture that evening. He sat still in the living room, staring at nothing and wishing he'd never made such an idiot of himself.

"Oh. Hey," she greeted weakly, stepping into the apartment. He watched her remove her bag and coat in silence, revealing a baggy shirt over baggy harem pants that swamped her completely. But even with those oversized pieces of material, she still looked thin. Too thin.

It had bothered him before, but he'd always thought of her as so damn beautiful that it didn't matter to him.

"Hey," he returned, his voice hoarse. She glanced up, as if in hesitation, and crossed the room to the kitchen. He could hear her making tea in near silence.

She didn't return to the living room for another few minutes, before she entered with two cups of hot tea in one pale white hand. She placed them carefully on the table they had bought together, and sat down in the armchair. She looked desperately small and frail.

"So. Shit happens, right?" she said simply, curling her legs beneath her form. She gave a shrug, as if out of nonchalance, but it turned into more of a wince.

"I had no right to shout at you," he admitted, as if he hadn't heard her words. She gave another, more successful shrug.

"S'kay. I shouldn't have said anything," she reasoned, lowering her dark eyes. Darcy sighed.

"No. You came to me, looking for support and understanding, and I lashed out at you like some sort of monster. I'm sorry," he apologised quietly. She nodded, and raised one hand, as if she were wiping tears from her eyes. "I – I'm still learning how to do this. I'm still learning how to love someone the way that I love you. And it – it _terrifies_ me sometimes, that I'm so pathetically devoted to you, but I don't know what happened yesterday," he said honestly, leaning forwards and running a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't want to think that about you. You've always been so strong, Eerin. You held me up and supported me without even realising when I was coming to terms with my feelings for you, and you've been my crutch for months now," he continued, his words slow and thoughtful.

"That's not true. _You've _been supporting _me_," she insisted softly. He gave a bitter laugh, and shook his head.

"No. No, that's not true. Well, perhaps for you, but I've been leaning on you ever since you picked me up off the floor after my supposed best friend beat me up," he informed her quietly. "So. If you need my help, if you need my support, I'm here. I'll always be here, because I love you," he assured her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it tightly.

She nodded with teary eyes.

"I won't pretend I understand. Because I don't. You are... _so_ beautiful, Eerin, and I'll always believe that. I love what's inside of you and I love what's outside, and I can't understand why you would..." he sighed. "I'm just making this worse. Please. I don't want you to do that anymore," he said quietly, honestly, turning to her with a sense of desperation in his emerald eyes. She sniffled.

"I don't try to. I don't even realise when I do. But I still want to, and I can't help that," she shrugged weakly. Darcy moved over to her armchair instantly, scooped her up in his arms and then deposited her on his lap.

"Is this why you brought up my demons the other night?" he questioned her quietly. She sniffled.

"Partly, yes."

"I'm sorry. You listened to me and I didn't do that to you. I wish I could say I'm sorry that I burned your box, but I'm not," he admitted. She nodded in understanding.

"I don't mind so much, now that I thought about it. I was worried I might have left my old diary in there, but I still have it," she sniffled. Darcy held her tighter.

"Do you... mind if I read it?" he questioned. She blushed brightly, and pulled away from him slightly.

"It's kind of... personal. There's a lot of stuff in there I doubt you want to hear," she practically squeaked. He rolled his eyes.

"I raised a young girl, I don't think you're going to have written anything I don't already know," he replied. She bit her lip nervously.

"Uh... well, yes, I suppose," she muttered, sliding off his lap and to their bedroom. She returned a moment later, and passed a faded pink Moleskine to him with tentative hands. He chuckled at the collection of Hello Kitty stickers on the outside, and the fierce and threatening warning on the inside cover.

"Come here, lie down with me," he requested, shifting so she could lie with her head on his lap as he read. He pulled on his reading glasses and opened to the first page.

She wasn't sure if he intended to read every entry, but he was certainly starting at the beginning, when she was about twelve or thirteen. Occasionally he chuckled, or made comment, and looked vaguely mortified at her childish, pubescent queries and thoughts.

"This is a good bit; '_I know that babies come out there, which is pretty gross, but I still don't understand. It'd be like sticking your finger up someone else's nose, but without your undies'_," he read aloud with a snigger. "I'm beginning to understand why you thought you were a lesbian," he chuckled, as her face burned bright red and she slapped him on the arm.

"Stop it! I was young!" she scowled. He only sniggered.

"Oh, this one's good, you mention little old me," he sighed, flicking through the pages to find her rather clumsy and poor drawing of the cover of one of his early textbooks. "'_I really love all this symbol stuff, it's like everything has a meaning. Dr. Darcy must be a genius, I wish I were that smart_'," he quoted with a broad grin. "Oh, and you go on to describe how 'hot' I am, which is rather lovely of you," he added, unable to hold back his laughter.

"You prick," she huffed petulantly.

"I'm beginning to appreciate how difficult it must have been to be a girl. And you – ah, the first love," he announced suddenly, showing her a clipping of some doe-eyed model from an old magazine clipping that she had pasted in there. "You didn't like breasts? Are all lesbians like that?" he questioned with a frown. Eerin scoffed.

"I don't know, and I'm not even a lesbian, so I can't comment," she defended petulantly, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Sorry, love, I'm just teasing you," he smiled, leaning forwards to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She rolled his eyes as he continued.

It took him a good hour for his laughter to really fade, and for the childish innocence to disappear into more sinister, dark thoughts on the pages. Oh, there had been hints of it all through the diary till that point, but as he read of her guilty, angry thoughts while she starved herself, he reached for her hand and his expression of amusement and fascination was one of deep concern and sadness.

He lowered it finally, after a long period of silence.

"It must have been hard," he said finally. She shrugged.

"Not as hard as that makes it seem. I was just being indulgent," she explained. He nodded slowly.

"You know, I don't think I know even Ana as well as I know you now. And no one, _no one_ knows me as well as you do now," he commented.

"Scare you?"

"Terrifies me."

"Me too," she assured him. He gave a relieved smile. "Things are going to be okay, you know," she added suddenly.

"I know."

He nodded, almost as if he had forgotten she was there, and sighed deeply, running a hand through his dark hair.

"So this is... intimacy. Knowing each other's secrets," he declared thoughtfully, almost mindlessly running his hand over her shoulders. "Nothing else you're hiding?" he asked, glancing down to her. She shook her head.

"No, the confused sexuality and the eating disorder were my big ones. How about you?" she questioned curiously. He shrugged.

"I used to hunt, when I was in England. You might want to know that one," he informed her, wincing slightly as her jaw fell. "I won't anymore, I promise," he swore. She scowled.

"You'd better not."

"Uh... what else?" he muttered thoughtfully. "Ah. I lost my virginity when I was fourteen. Another fascinating little secret of mine," he added.

"How the hell did you manage that at fourteen?" she exclaimed.

"Family holiday to France. A rather liberal young girl of sixteen in the local area," he informed her, staring out at the window with a pensive expression. "I think that's probably it. There were a lot of schoolboy pranks, but Chase always took the blame for them, he liked having a bit of a reputation," he chuckled.

"What was the best one you did?" she questioned eagerly.

"Ah, well, the least original, but probably most amusing, was when Chase and I took apart a tractor from the groundskeeper and put it in the dining hall. It's been done before, but we were rather proud of ourselves," he recounted with a soft smile of nostalgia. "And then of course, we did a great deal of things that served no purpose other than to annoy people. I once glued the left shoe of everyone in the first floor dormitories to the roof," he added with a small grin.

"You're such a marauder."

"Which one would I be?"

"Remus."

"_Remus_? Why not Sirius? Sirius was at least a little more reckless," he laughed, but she shook her head.

"No, you're definitely Remus. And don't diss him, when I was nine he was amazing. Bloody JK, killing him off," she huffed. Darcy tried his best to hide laughter.

"This isn't some sort of fetish of yours, is it? Werewolves?" he asked dryly. She rolled her eyes.

"_No_, but chocolate loving scholars are," she replied with a small laugh. He gave another smirk. "Seriously, though. You would have been such a good marauder."

"I have my moments," he shrugged, before chuckling. "I was a terrible teenager. I was too clever for my own good, and too aware of my own intelligence. I can't believe I wasn't expelled," he smiled.

"I never did anything exciting. Well, other than annoy everyone on a constant basis, and occasionally cause minor anarchy, but nothing clever," she said, settling in against him comfortably. "I regularly dressed up in the costumes we had stored in one of my classrooms, and in my last week of high school, I wore a different Pokémon costume every day. It cost me hundreds of dollars to buy them off ebay, but it was worth it," she grinned proudly.

"Well, we didn't even have Pokémon when I was a boy. I was so bereft," he drawled. She rolled her eyes.

"Hmm, you sound like it," she laughed. He leant his head back on the lounge, almost as if he were going to sleep.

"I'm glad we talked. I don't talk about these sorts of things. It's nice," he commented suddenly.

Eerin didn't answer. She just gave a soft smile, and moved her head to sit on his lap. For now, she was fine with comfortable silence.

**A/N: So. Nice long chapter, revelations come out, and next is England. Which will have its fair share of dramas. And then, not long after the return from England, CAROL WILL STRIKE!**

**You have been warned...**


	32. Of Matlock and Misgivings

"_How do you tame a lion?_

_It was a savvy answer,_

_The repartee and argument,_

_You look like a dancer,"_

-Washington, 'How To Tame Lions'

"This is where you _live_?" Eerin exclaimed loudly the moment the luxurious BMW drove through the black iron gates concealing a gorgeous stone city townhouse, or rather, _mansion_. It wasn't a word that was used much in Australia, but she really couldn't think of anything else that came close to capturing the size and grandeur of the house. It was an entirely impractical home for London, particularly considering it wasn't always inhabited. Darcy smirked from his side of the back seat as he watched his lover press her face against the glass.

"The London House. I consider Pemberley my real home," he answered casually.

"Me too, even though I grew up here. You'll understand when you see it," Ana assured her sister-to-be, her eyes sparkling eagerly to show off her home.

"This place is _huge_! And _gorgeous_!" she insisted, jumping out of the car the moment it rolled to a stop. Darcy chuckled as she leapt out onto the stone driveway, staring up at the Georgian manor with wide eyes.

"Try not to be so excited, we'll be meeting my family tonight, and I'd like it if you could speak in coherent sentences," he teased, climbing out after her. She rolled her dark eyes.

"Shut up, bully. Can we go in? I want to have a look at this place," she said eagerly.

"Ana, I think I worked out why she loves me," Darcy called to his sister as he took Eerin's hand, and led her up the stone steps to his home.

It was their first day in England. Earlier that morning Ana, Darcy and Eerin had been on a private plane from an airport in Paris, and a few days before that they had been nestled away in a gorgeous little villa on the French Mediterranean coast.

Eerin had grown nervous in the days following her and Darcy's tentative admissions, frightened of how his family would accept her when they went to England. But she had barely thought about his family for the past week; because she was too busy enjoying herself in France.

The house Darcy owned on the French coast was absolutely stunning, nestled away near the trees and just it only took thirty seconds walk from the front stone steps of the house to be standing in the clear blue-green ocean, warm water lapping around your ankles. They had the place to themselves for the first few days, being very European and spending lazy mornings in bed, afternoons lying on the sand or paddling in the beautiful waters, before a long, late meal and a return to bed.

Eerin didn't know when she'd been happier. It was absolutely perfect there, and after she and Darcy had come clean and been completely honest with each other about their little secrets, it was almost as if they were melding into the same person. Life was so peaceful, simple, and full of love. And things only improved when Ana arrived, although they did spend a little less time in bed, for her sake. It not only gave Eerin a chance to improve her now rusty French, but she couldn't help but think that her idea of 'family' had been completely incorrect until that moment. She felt like she was living in a novel like _Bonjour Tristesse_, but there was no sadness and self-destruction. She was just... incredibly happy.

Two days before they were due in London, they headed up to Paris for a little shopping.

Well, Ana and Darcy had told her it would be a 'little'. But obviously they were using the term very loosely.

"You're a man. People with balls aren't supposed to enjoy this," she growled at Darcy the first morning in Paris, when Ana had blabbered on for the past twenty-minutes over how they would spend their day, and it was already frightening Eerin.

"I trade them in when I need new clothes," he shrugged with a teasing smile, lowering his bowl of hot chocolate. They were in a glamorous Parisian hotel enjoying their breakfast before Ana was planning on dragging them all over the city. "And stop speaking English, you said you wanted to practise," he added, in French.

"How can I even try when Ana's so good?" she questioned glumly.

"Well that was good, nice conditional tense," he praised. "And don't feel bad. She spends a lot of time in France, at least four months a year," he added with a shrug.

"So that's why she knows all the shops so well?" she laughed. He smiled, and nodded, glancing to his sister, who was fetching herself some more coffee from the buffet-style breakfast table.

"That and she really, _really _likes clothing, she could find the most expensive place to buy the most unnecessary things if you left her in the middle of the Sahara," he commented, before turning back to her. "But really, we do need to find you some more things to wear in England," he said quite seriously.

"You bought me tons of incredibly expensive things back in Sydney, remember? I'm not sure if I'm excited or freaked out by the fact that Ana and I have matching suitcases," she said thoughtfully, before taking a bite from her _tartine_.

"Ana is of the firm belief that unless your luggage has Louis Vuitton stamped across it, you shouldn't be allowed to travel," he chuckled. "And you don't have enough things for the whole trip, not if I know my family. So we'll see how much we can get done today, and if you're good and co-operative, we'll go see a few galleries tomorrow before the flight to London," he promised her. Eerin considered her options.

"Alright, let's get this over and done with, apparently it takes a month to look at everything properly in the whole Louvre, so we're going to need all the time we can get tomorrow," she declared firmly. Darcy chuckled.

"_En français_," he reminded her with a twinkle in his emerald eyes. She scoffed, and finished off her hot chocolate with haste.

Much to Eerin's displeasure, they didn't get to the Louvre, thanks to Ana, who made it her mission to get something couture for Eerin before they left Paris. She and Darcy were dragged _everywhere_ buying shoes, perfume, bags, dresses, skirts, blouses, jewellery, none of which Eerin could foresee wearing in the future. And the same went for the second day, too, which meant a very disgruntled Eerin on the flight across the channel.

But everything was forgotten when they arrived at the beautiful London townhouse that Darcy and Ana called home.

"How big is it?" she questioned excitedly when Darcy had finished giving instructions to the driver and the housekeeper, who ran out to greet him.

"Not as big as Pemberley, but it's quite large. Three stories and a wine cellar underneath, too," he informed her, leading her across the driveway to speak to a wizened looking woman with kind brown eyes and grey hair pulled into a bun. She wore a plain navy dress with a small white ruffle that suggested she was a maid or something of the like. "Eerin, this is Mrs Reynolds, my housekeeper. She's normally in Pemberley, but she goes to whichever house is being inhabited," he introduced.

Eerin smiled and shook the woman's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. This house looks so wonderful," she commented politely. Mrs Reynolds' eyes softened slightly.

"Oh, aren't you lovely. Well, we do our best to keep it in good shape," she smiled with her delightful English accent. "Now, my dear, I'm here to help with the running of this place, but if there's anything you think needs to change, or you're not happy with, then just tell me, and it will be done," she assured her warmly, squeezing her hand before releasing it, and beaming at Darcy. "She's lovely, Fitz!"

"I rather think so," Darcy chuckled, pressing a kiss to Eerin's forehead. "Now, Mrs Reynolds, we won't be dining here tonight, but I think a few light refreshments for the ladies would be welcome. Please have Marianne unpack for Eerin, and she can help her dress for tonight," he instructed. Mrs Reynolds nodded efficiently, and bustled off immediately. Eerin turned with a frown to Darcy.

"If this woman has been running the household for Lord knows how long, why do I have the power to change whatever I want?" she questioned slowly.

"You're the future Mistress, your opinion carries considerable weight," he informed her, laughing slightly at her wide eyes. "Now come on, I want to show you around," he said, reaching for her hand, and leading her back up to the stone steps in front of the house.

Eerin gasped as they walked through the heavy mahogany double doors into a beautiful entrance parlour. It was decorated in a stunning traditional Victorian style, with gorgeous moulding on the walls and ceiling, gleaming polished quartz floors and pillars, overall it looked like the kind of place they hosted the _Antiques Roadshow_. And she watched that show religiously, so she knew her stuff.

"This is incredible," she whispered as they stepped through the entrance to the ballroom, where a huge grand staircase led up to the first floor.

"The ground floor is the kitchen, the breakfast room, the dining room and a few small parlours, sitting rooms, that sort of thing. Oh, and the live-in staff have their rooms on this floor as well," he began. "There's a billiards room as well, and the library starts on this floor," he continued.

"You have a library? I want to see it!" she squealed immediately. Darcy chuckled.

"Soon, come on, let's go up," he instructed, leading her to the large stone staircase. "The first floor is all the bedrooms, my study, and the second entrance to the library. The master bedroom is down there, and then there's the nursery, and a few others on this side, and down there are the guest rooms," he explained, pointing to doors in turn.

"I'm going to get lost," she said quite seriously. He chuckled.

"Perhaps. And then we go up again," he instructed, leading her to a less obvious staircase to the second floor. She gasped and oohed and ahhed as he showed the views into the garden and the paintings hanging on the walls, and she was very excited to see all the portraits of his family members hanging in the gallery on the top floor, not to mention the marble busts and statues.

Eerin was breathless for almost the whole tour. She fell in love with the library and his study, which had a number of very rare and very expensive historical artefacts that he had been collecting over the years, and a number of books that she couldn't wait to read. By the time she had seen every room, it was almost time for her to get ready for dinner with his family.

"There you two are. Come on then, Mrs Reynolds has some tea waiting for us, and then we need to get ready!" Ana exclaimed, jumping in on the couple as Darcy showed her the bedroom, bathroom and dressing rooms they would share in the master suite.

"This place is incredible," Eerin sighed dreamily, following Darcy down the stairs once more.

"Wait til you see Pemberley. This is just the townhouse," he grinned. She scoffed.

"You have too many houses. I don't even have one, it's not fair," she pouted. He chuckled.

"Well, this will be yours too, soon enough," he smiled, linking hands with her as he led her to a small, prettily decorated parlour overlooking the London streets.

"Now then. Eerin, I already told Marianne what you're wearing tonight, and she's really good with hair and makeup, so you should be all set for tonight," Ana declared, taking a seat at the little lace-covered table, immediately pouring herself a cup of tea and grabbing a cucumber sandwich.

"Oh, thank you very much for that, Ana. I forgot how to dress myself," Eerin laughed, her dark eyes twinkling.

"That's what I'm here for," she beamed in return.

Darcy chuckled as the two teased each other. They were truly an adorable sight, and were becoming more and more like sisters every day.

"Do you remember the conversation we had about my relatives a while ago?" Darcy questioned half-an-hour later, stepping into Eerin's dressing room. "Where did Marianne go?" he questioned, glancing around curiously.

"She went back to find the rabbit's gloves."

"You've been waiting to say that all afternoon, haven't you?" Darcy chuckled with a slight smirk. She beamed.

"Yup. But I _can_ dress myself, you know," she objected, glancing to him in the reflection of the dressing mirror. "She helped me with my makeup and left, there's nothing to be done with my hair and I can put a dress on myself," she assured him, plonking herself in a rotating chair with a contented sigh. "I feel like a Princess," she declared lazily.

"You are," he smiled, pressing a kiss to her mouth, before leaning back and looking at her reflection in the mirror. "A few months ago, I told you about them, and I told you who to avoid," he reminded her. She nodded.

"Yes, all the men. And the women are evil," she nodded firmly. He chuckled.

"Just remember, keep away from Victor and my Uncle Matlock. And Cyril, if you can," he instructed her, squeezing her shoulder for support. She bit her lip.

"Will, I don't think they're going to like me," she said with a tiny, worried frown.

"You're not stupid enough to let their opinions hurt you."

"It's not them I'm worried about. What you think means the world to me, and I don't want you to be embarrassed by me. I don't care what they think, but you and Ana are too important to me," she objected, meeting his emerald eyes with her dark, vulnerable ones. He sighed, and lowered himself to his knees, pressing his forehead against the length of her arm.

"Eerin, you and Ana are all the family I've ever needed or wanted. These are just my relatives, they don't matter when it all comes down to it," he assured her. She finally nodded.

"I just don't want you to be embarrassed by me, that's all," she explained weakly. He rose to his feet.

"I could never be embarrassed by you. I adore you, remember?" he smiled, giving her one last kiss, before leaving to allow her to finish dressing.

About half an hour later they were back in the luxurious BMW, headed to a different side of London for dinner at Matlock and Lucinda Fitzwilliam's house. Eerin couldn't help but feel odd in her elegant black Lanvin dress, her back felt cold and exposed and she felt unsteady on her tall black D&G heels, there was no colour to her outfit and nothing even slightly whimsical. She didn't feel like herself, but, she thought bitterly, it was very unlikely that 'herself' was going to cut it that evening.

When they arrived at the Fitzwilliam house, it was just as big and beautiful as Darcy's place, but far colder. Ana, who looked stunning as usual in a little navy Stella McCartney dress that cut well and complimented her figure, grabbed Eerin's hand and pulled her out of the car immediately, babbling excitedly. They were greeted at the door by a sombre looking butler who silently led them into a large, ostentatious parlour with an assortment of people sitting around with drinks. It looked like something out of the _Agatha Christie_ movies, and was _very_ glamorous.

"Ah, good, they've arrived. Finally," came a familiar, curt voice from the chaise. Eerin wasn't shocked to see Catherine du Bourg sitting there with a displeased expression on her face, but she certainly wasn't happy about it.

"Aunt, we're not late," Darcy said, stepping further into the room with Eerin by his side.

"But you're not early, son," came a deep, stern voice. Eerin took in the fearsome man sitting at a large armchair in the centre of the room. He looked very tall, although he was sitting down, and quite heavy-set, with strong, disapproving features and sharp green eyes. His hair was balding and combed to one side, only making his face look larger and angrier. By his side was a much smaller looking woman, with obviously dyed platinum hair and cool blue eyes. She must have been attractive, in her day, but now any pretty features were cold with an ugly frown on her face.

Then there was Arianna, who Eerin vaguely remembered from that dinner all those months ago, and her mother, Mrs du Bourg, who she doubted she could _ever_ forget.

On the other side of the congregation sat a younger man, who looked to be in his early twenties. He was quite handsome, with combed back dark hair and steely eyes. His features were almost feminine in nature, such were their elegance. He was looking her up and down with a blank expression on his face. She could tell that the man next to him was his father, because they were almost identical, only this man looked to be at least twice the boy's age, his eyes were green and he had a small moustache, but they were both undoubtable handsome, and rather frightening, if she were honest. There was another woman then, standing by the mantle, with a hideous fur wrapped around her neck as if it weren't summer and she were in some sort of tableau, with a cigarette in her red mouth. She looked very elegant, and very attractive in her way. She would only have been in her late thirties, probably not even forty, and had a long wave of beautifully curled brown hair trailing down her back.

"Uncle. It's been so long," the young man smiled, rising up from his chair and shaking Darcy's hand firmly, his eyes still glued to Eerin. He had all the charm of youth, it seemed, and all the appeal of a sly fox. There was a façade of innocence about him that Eerin was sure could fool just about anyone, but she knew immediately it was an act, merely because it was too seamless.

"Cyril, you must have gained at least two inches since I saw you last," Darcy exclaimed, immediately assuming some sort of fatherly air about him.

"Not at all, perhaps you're just shrinking," he returned with a wry smile. "So is this the lady we've all been waiting to meet?" he questioned almost eagerly.

"Yes, this is Eerin Beaumont. Eerin, this is my second-cousin Cyril Fitzwilliam, but he likes to remind me of my age and call me 'uncle'," he introduced, turning to her and gesturing for her to come forward.

"Well, I'm positively green with envy, uncle. She's beautiful," Cyril smiled, reaching forwards and taking her hand. Instead of shaking it he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before returning it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Cyril," she replied. She hoped that her anxiety didn't show through her voice, but this man made her nervous.

"Well now, son, you're blocking the lovely Miss Beaumont from our view," came another voice, deeper than Cyril's, but it had that same, lyrical, sickeningly charming quality about it. Eerin could hear a scoff from the woman by the mantle, but the man stepped before her before she could contemplate it. "Victor Fitzwilliam, Darcy's cousin. I'm honoured," he introduced, he too reaching for her hand and kissing it. Eerin gave a weak sort of smile for lack of anything better to do.

"Not going to introduce me, _darling_?" drawled the woman at the mantle, strolling forwards with a cloud of Chanel perfume and bitter beauty. She threw her chin forwards and then leant down towards Eerin, pressing a kiss to both her cheeks. "It's Melissa, sweetheart. Welcome to England," she greeted hollowly, before dramatically throwing herself down on a chaise and sliding her fur off her shoulders. She was quite ridiculous, if not amusing.

"Well, Fitz, we aren't all running across the room to greet your woman, bring her to me," demanded the man in the large armchair. "And Ana, you too, come to me, child," he commanded, patting his knee. Ana sat down dutifully, but it was clear that she was frightened of him, if one looked at her eyes. "Do you know who I am, girl?" the man questioned Eerin in his booming voice when Darcy led her forth.

"I can only assume Matlock Fitzwilliam, sir," she replied politely. His eyes narrowed, and his mouth tightened.

"It's not good to assume. But you're correct," he practically snapped at her. "Sit yourself here, girl, beside me, on the ottoman," he instructed, directing her to a low chintzy ottoman by his chair. She sat herself down without response, sending a questioning glance to Darcy, who didn't respond. "Now, Georgiana, my love. How is school?" he questioned Ana, his voice so loud no one in the room could possibly have another conversation while he spoke.

"Very good, grandfather," she assured him. Eerin didn't comment on the fact that this man was certainly not her grandfather, because she was certain she wouldn't survive if she did.

"And are you doing well?" he demanded. She nodded.

"Yes, grandfather. I'm coming first in half of my classes," she replied in a sweet, docile little voice. Eerin glanced around – it seemed to be Matlock liked his women. Darcy took a seat opposite his uncle, where he could keep a good eye on Eerin.

"Good. Now, son, how do you find Australia, other than a source of pretty young women?" he questioned his nephew dryly. Darcy looked up, almost surprised to have been addressed.

"Very instructive. The style of education is very derivative of ours, of course, but it's such a melting pot of different cultures that there is no norm of opinion," he answered dutifully. "The university is very impressive. And apart from the weather, I don't find things too different from home," he added.

"Excellent. And when will you be returning to England for good?" he demanded.

"I'm not sure. The year is only half-way through, but the class has been a success, so it could be that other universities are more open to bringing it in next year," he answered simply. Matlock nodded with a slight grunt, and then turned to Eerin.

"Now, young lady. We know next to nothing about you, apart from what my sister has told us," he announced to her. Eerin now knew why he had chosen her to sit in that place, because he could look down at her with ease.

"Of course, at the time, I was enquiring after one of my nephew's students, not one of his lovers, so I gathered only irrelevant information," Catherine drawled pointedly.

"So it's true then, that she's a student of yours, Darcy?" Matlock questioned his nephew, who nodded, leaning his jaw against his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair.

"At present, yes," he answered, closing his face to any emotion. Matlock gave a gruff little noise of disapproval.

"Well then, nothing more we can say on that subject, as I'm sure you already know the risks you're taking," he returned curtly, casting his gaze down to Eerin and narrowing his eyes. "Reasonably pretty, though," he muttered, as if she weren't there.

"We're well aware of the risks, uncle, and we take very serious precautions," Darcy assured him firmly.

"How old are you, Miss Beaumont?" he demanded, turning back to her.

"I turned twenty earlier this year, sir," she answered promptly.

"Call me something other than 'sir', young lady," he commanded sternly.

"Well what do you want me to call you?" she asked with a raised brow. He frowned.

"'Sir' will do at present. So, are you two engaged, or was that just a rumour?" he questioned Darcy.

"Not officially, but marriage is certainly on the table," Darcy answered, not even glancing to Eerin. She got the distinct impression that he was playing a game of chess, and was using an incredible amount of control to remain only one step behind.

"Haven't laid the claim yet, son," he returned, grabbing Eerin's wrist and pulling her hand up to show Darcy, sans ring. Eerin winced slightly at how tightly her arm was being held, but didn't speak. This man terrified her. "Which is, I assume, why you're here," he said with a frown, before placing Eerin's hand so it rested on his thigh, just above his knee. She was feeling increasingly uncomfortable, but didn't dare move her hand away.

"Partially, yes. Do you have the set on display, or is it in the vault?" he questioned, glancing to Eerin and attempting to shield the concern from his eyes.

"It's in my safe. But I won't give it to you yet, not until we know Miss Beaumont a bit better," he said sternly, with a tone that clearly closed the conversation. Eerin wasn't sure what they were talking about, but she knew by the tight line on Darcy's mouth that he wasn't happy. "Well then, young lady, we know you're my nephew's student. What else is there to know about you?" he questioned, turning to Eerin once more.

"Uh... I live in a small Shire outside of Sydney. I have four sisters, my father is a professor of English literature and my mother owns a business," she informed him simply.

"What kind of business?"

"A day spa and relaxation centre, sir. I work there part-time." He nodded, his mouth closed tightly.

"And what do you intend on doing after leaving university?" he questioned curtly.

"I'm very interested in travel, history and literature, sir. I'm not certain, but I'm keeping my options open," she answered as honestly as she could.

"The correct answer was 'be a married woman', young lady, but that will suffice for now," he practically growled. Eerin closed her mouth when she felt like objecting – because she knew that if she _did_ object, her chances of survival would be very, very slim.

From then on Matlock led the conversations, mainly speaking to Darcy about his time in Australia and asking questions about Eerin as if she weren't there. Eerin sat still, not daring to remove her hand from Matlock's thigh, even though it did make her feel uncomfortable. She just hoped she never grew to be so familiar with him that he made her sit on his lap.

As he spoke, she managed to work out the hierarchy of the family. Matlock was front and centre in all respects, and everyone was well-below him. The grandchildren seemed to be the most treasured possessions, but it was clear that they were meant to be seen, but not heard. Eerin feared that she was perhaps becoming one of the grandchildren.

"Ah, that must be my other son," Matlock drawled, when they heard the doorbell, and someone being led into the parlour by the inauspicious butler.

"Hello, loving family. Are we all alive?" came a cheerful, pleasant voice from the entrance as Richard stepped in, looking just as dashing as ever.

"Richard, good of you to appear," Matlock drawled. Richard spotted Eerin, and his eyes widened with surprise, only further when he spied Darcy.

"Ah, looks like we have some guests," he exclaimed in complete shock.

"Richard!" Ana cried happily, jumping up and giving her cousin a warm hug. He chuckled, and pat her hair back.

"Hello to you too, pet," he replied, looking between Eerin and Darcy, who had not raised his head at all, in confusion. "Eerin, my dear, you're looking splendid. I didn't know you were in England," he said, deciding to try his luck with Eerin.

"Didn't William tell you? We arrived today," she replied, thankfully standing as he walked to her, and allowing him to pull her into a small hug.

"No, he didn't, but that's alright, I'll forgive him," he said meaningfully, glancing over his shoulder. "So, you look wonderful. Love the new hair. How's school?" he enquired.

"It's the semester break, now. William, why didn't you tell Richard we were coming?" she questioned with a confused frown.

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Richard grimaced, releasing her. She resumed her place on the ottoman. She didn't understand, Darcy was speaking to Richard again, wasn't he? He told her he'd call him back when they were at the beach all those months ago!

"So, Richard, you've met Miss Beaumont before?" Matlock questioned with a raised brow.

"Yes, father, when I was in Sydney. She was lovely company, even if Darcy was constantly vying for her attentions," he replied airily, taking a seat beside Melissa. "Hullo, Mel. How's the face holding up?" he asked quite seriously. She scoffed, and rolled her eyes, ignoring his snigger.

"Well, now that you've arrived, we might as well start dinner. Ladies first," Matlock instructed, waving the women off. Eerin scrambled up as elegantly as she could, and before she knew what was happening, a woman was linking arms with her.

"It's Lucinda, dear. My husband didn't bother to introduce me," the woman with the platinum hair announced with a wizened voice. "Just thought I'd tell you that you can always come to me, child, I'll protect you from the beasts," she promised, but there was something in her tone that made Eerin think she was a bit of a beast herself.

"Oh, uh, thank you," she smiled awkwardly.

Eerin ended up sitting on Matlock's left-hand side, he at the head of the table, of course, opposite Darcy, and beside Richard. She didn't particularly wish to sit near Matlock, but from the looks Victor was giving her, she was very glad she wasn't sitting near him.

"We were already informed of your vegetarianism, Miss Beaumont," Matlock commented, when everyone was seated, and the odd dozen kitchen staff removed the silver covers from their first course, a leafy salad. "Any particular problem with eating animals, or do you have medical reasons?" he sneered, pouring her a glass of wine almost immediately.

"I don't like the taste, sir, among other things. And please, call me Eerin," she requested, getting rather tired of this 'Miss Beaumont' nonsense.

"Call me grandfather, then. You're too young to call me uncle, and if Cyril and Georgiana can call me grandfather, so can you," he instructed curtly.

"Of course... grandfather," she replied, almost cringing inside. It was so... _weird_. And she felt dirty. She didn't like herself at that moment, which she supposed was Matlock's power. He had stripped away her strength and fire out of fear, and she didn't who she was without it.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. Matlock was constantly demanding information from her about her family, her future intentions, her tastes and preferences, and then shifted over to Darcy. Darcy, for his part, said very little, and not a word to Richard. Eerin was now certain that he hadn't made up with Richard, despite him telling her that he would.

By the end of the evening, Eerin just wanted to go home to Australia and never have to deal with any of the Fitzwilliams again. She was tired and humiliated and felt like she had been displayed all evening. They left not long after dinner had finished, much to Eerin's relief.

"Are you alright?" Darcy questioned her gently, when they stepped out into the cool London evening, the car waiting patiently for them.

"Can we just go home? I'm tired," she requested simply, pulling her coat around her shoulders and ducking her head as she slipped into the car. Ana yawned loudly and lay back on the seat, her head in Eerin's lap.

"Lord, he was awful tonight. Do we really have to go tomorrow, Fitz?" Ana begged her brother, turning to look at him with pleading eyes. He closed the car door and tapped on the dark window separating the driver section.

"Yes, Ana. We said we would," he replied sternly, leaning his head back with a sigh.

Eerin waited til they got back to the townhouse to ask Darcy about Richard. In fact, she said very little at all as the maid ran her a bath and she undressed, changing into a fluffy white bathrobe.

"It'll get easier," Darcy said, stepping into her dressing room. Eerin scoffed. "It will, I swear. He's just difficult to deal with," he insisted, reaching for her shoulders. "Eerin, you mustn't be upset," he insisted.

"Your uncle hasn't upset me," she snapped, pulling away from his grip and closing the door to the bathroom behind her.

She languished in the hot water for a long time, thinking over her words. Perhaps what she had said wasn't completely true, because Matlock _had_ upset her, but Darcy couldn't help that. No, she was angry with him for a whole other reason.

She sunk into bed with a tired sigh, her new nightgown feeling too foreign, and the bed too different. Their bedroom was beautiful (masculine, as always), but it wasn't home.

"Eerin? Are you awake?" she heard a soft question from the doorway as Darcy stepped into their bedroom. Eerin sat up and turned on the bedside light as he shut the door behind him.

He didn't say anything as he went into his own dressing room, and emerged a few minutes later wearing a pair of plain grey sleeping pants that hung loose around his waist, and an old shirt of his she had borrowed once or twice.

"Why didn't you tell Richard we were coming to London?" she asked finally, when he climbed into bed.

"You already know why," Darcy grumbled, rolling over on his side, so his back was facing her.

"Well, _no_, actually,I don't know why when you told me months ago that you were going to call him, you apparently _forgot_," she snapped. He groaned.

"Eerin, I don't want to have this conversation now," he said pointedly.

"Richard didn't do anything wrong, William. He wasn't the reason I rejected you, and he wasn't the reason I was hit by that car," she retorted coolly.

Darcy didn't reply.

"He's a _good_ guy. He was only looking out for me. You had no right to –"

"Who I do and do not associate with is frankly none of your business, Eerin Kimba Beaumont, and if I've made the decision not to speak with Richard any longer, then you need to learn to respect my decision," he interrupted her, his tone sharp and pointed. "Now, can we please get some sleep?" he practically demanded, glancing over his shoulder to her.

He lowered his eyes slightly in shame to see her expression, her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowed and her gaze fixed downwards, but he couldn't tell if she was forcing herself not to cry or to slap him.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, sitting up.

"Yeah? Well so am I," she snapped, climbing out of bed and storming out of the room without another word.

Darcy groaned painfully as the door slammed, and he slid back into bed.

Didn't she understand that if Richard had never spoken to her, she wouldn't have been hit by a car, and they would have been together at least a month earlier? Richard had thrown himself into the situation and screwed things up royally. He had no right.

Darcy wanted to hit himself over the head with something. He knew he was using Richard as an excuse to nurse his wounded ego. It was easy to think that it was Richard's fault that Eerin had turned him down, because if he thought that, then it wasn't true that he wasn't worthy of her, it simply couldn't be.

But then again, deep down, he knew that it wasn't Richard's fault, and it wasn't fair that he was punishing him. He just didn't know if he would be able to stop.

**A/N: Mm, so England. What did we think? I know it's very over-the-top. But so am I. And I've been watching a lot of Midsummer Murders and various Agatha Christie DVDs recently, so blame them. **

**Bonbonnett: We really are getting some terrible weather in Oz. Luckily, all I'm getting at the moment is a heat wave, but up north there have been floods and now cyclone Yasi. And in WA there are still bushfires raging. But we'll get through it, we're Aussies :D **

**Ahintofwhimsy: 'Lolly water' is an alcoholic drink. Well, sort of. It's soft drink with a shot of vodka, like a Vodka Cruiser or something. It's just another name for it.**

**Scruffyreader7: Eerin ends up telling her mother that she's going travelling again. If you'll recall, she went on a long trip backpacking when she had finished school, so it wouldn't cause too much alarm, particularly when Fiona is a bit more focused on Jannali. **

**Mattie: I was unsure about putting in the eating disorder, but I think beneath the surface, a lot of girls and women can really relate to it. Not necessarily because they have eating disorders themselves, but because in this society, most people have wanted someone else's body. I know I certainly have. Hey, my tumblr is a veritable bevy of photos of skinny girls. As well as photos of Stephen Fry. Man, I can't get enough of him. I think the important thing is realising that what we see in those pictures isn't real, but even coming to terms with that can be practically impossible. Personally, I've always been really frantic about my weight, and unnecessarily so. But I know what that feeling is that you mentioned, of slipping into patterns you know you shouldn't be slipping into. Had I not some experience with this, I would never have been able to write a character who had an eating disorder. This doesn't mean that I've ever had one; it just means that I'm a seventeen-year-old girl in the 21****st**** century, and however sad it is, it's now seen as normal. I think that every girl or woman reading this story knows what it's like to want something that isn't real, or certainly isn't healthy, and your honesty about it is really important :D**

**Lots of hugs, **

**Evie**


	33. Of Games and Gardens

"_But you, to pull away from me you took all I had in me,_

_You took everything from me and you ran away,_

_Now you're my enemy, now you're my enemy,_

_You're the guy I don't want to see or I might turn crazy,"_

-Soko, 'My Enemy'

"I'm so jealous, Eerin. Did you have sleepovers with your sisters a lot when you were younger?" Ana questioned her sister-to-be eagerly the next morning over breakfast.

"Of course! We hardly ever slept in our own rooms, we were always tying sheets up and making little cubby-houses to sleep in," she answered with a bright, laughing smile.

"Fitz, it was so much fun. We turned my room into some sort of giant fort, and we sat up all night talking and laughing, it was wonderful!" Ana informed her brother with an excited giggle. "Thanks for lending her to me, you might not get her back, it was so much fun," she laughed.

"Well I hope you two got enough sleep for today," was his slightly curt reply, but the coldness was lost on Ana.

"Well you can't talk, you look terrible, Fitz," she commented, staring at the dark bags beneath his eyes curiously. "Did you sleep at all?" she questioned with raised brows.

"I slept fine," he grumbled, but that was certainly a lie. He'd barely slept a wink the night before. It was ten times worse than how difficult he found it to sleep without Eerin on the weekends, because she was just down the hall, but he couldn't even go to her.

"Ana, do you think we could go try to find Stephen Fry in this city? I'm fifteen different kinds of desperate to meet him," Eerin said excitedly, leaning over the table to speak, almost secretively, with Ana.

"Oh, I love him too! We should definitely go," she practically squealed.

"In case you're forgetting, we have an engagement today, girls. We need to leave in another hour, so make sure you're ready," he instructed, finishing his tea and rising from the table.

Darcy buried himself in his study and began the tried-and-true Darcy habit of pacing. He was considering his options, and he was still so bitter over Richard that he didn't know if he was prepared to apologise to him, or forgive him, or whatever he was supposed to do.

He knew that he couldn't stand another night without Eerin; that was for certain. And he _did_ miss having Richard as someone he could depend on. But it was so hard to forgive and forget or to admit that he had been wrong! It was only on the very rarest of occasions that he had to apologise, but he was beginning to feel that he'd had rather too much apologising of late.

He made his way to his bedroom forty-five minutes later, his mind still turmoil, but he did know what he had to do, even though he didn't like it.

"You look nice," he commented almost weakly, standing in the doorway of Eerin's dressing room as she ran a brush through her hair. She wore a plain but pretty white summer dress with a boat collar and capped sleaves, saved from being too plain with a floral pink bow on the back that cut a little lower than expected.

"Hey, there's going to be gardens," she shrugged simply, pulling on a pair of white strapped wedge heels.

"I love you, you know," he said suddenly. She looked up with a sigh.

"I know. But you're an idiot sometimes," she retorted simply, rising to her feet and digging a purse from one of the drawers. "I can't talk, because I am too, but you're being stupid now, so that's why I'm shutting you out," she added meaningfully.

"Do you want me to forgive him, or to apologise to him?" he questioned almost desperately. She shrugged.

"Both, I think. He didn't mean to hurt you, and you shouldn't have ignored him for so long," she answered slowly, thinking out her words.

"And if I do, if I apologise, you'll sleep in our bed tonight, not Ana's?" he asked sheepishly.

"If it's the only reason why you're going to apologise, then no. I'm making a point, Will," she returned simply. Darcy huffed, and ran a hand through his dark hair anxiously. He walked out of the room and began to pace. "Jeez, Will, you don't need to get stressed. It's one little argument, not even a fight," she insisted, stepping out of her dressing room.

"I know, I'm just –" he stopped himself, and swallowed. Why was he getting so upset? It was as if his entire chest was constricting, he physically felt _ill_.

"Will, you're freaking me out now," she admitted, pushing him down to the bed. He tried to calm his breathing as he leant forwards, supporting his head with his hands. "Are you alright? Are you sick?" she questioned, pressing her hand to his forehead. "I have no idea if that's hot or not. I – uh, Will, seriously, are you alright?" she asked anxiously. He nodded, and swallowed, his throat strained. "Ana! I think something's wrong!" she called, sticking her head out into the hall.

"What's – Fitz?" she questioned, stepping into the room with a frown. She stopped, and scoffed. "He's fine, he's just stressing himself. He does this when he thinks something's gone wrong, he starts to freak himself out with all these bad thoughts and then has a panic attack," she explained with a shrug, stepping up to him and slapping him hard across his cheek.

"Jesus, Ana!" he snapped, clamping his hand to the side of his face. Eerin sighed and threw herself on the bed, lying on her back.

"Do _not_ do that to me again, Darcy," she commanded angrily, crossing her arms across her chest.

"So what did he do wrong?" Ana asked curiously.

"Ana, go away," Darcy growled.

"I'll make you breathe into the bag if you don't tell me," she threatened, but he silenced her with a glare. She huffed, but obediently left the room.

"I didn't know you had panic attacks," Eerin commented, sitting up, glancing to him with concern.

"I didn't. Ana's being stupid," he grumbled ashamedly. She stared at him with a raised brow. "Alright, I've been having them since I was about six or seven. But I've got them under control," he insisted. She rolled her eyes in response.

"Sure. Will, you scared me for a second," she admitted almost ashamedly. He shrugged.

"I'm sorry."

"Richard would forgive you, I think. And I know you can forgive him," she commented, as he started for his own dressing room. "It would mean a lot to me. I like Richard, and I know you don't have many friends," she added with a small smile. He nodded.

"I didn't do it because it still hurt, to know that you'd been injured, and he might have been able to prevent that," he admitted. "And I didn't need him then. I had you, and that was all I needed, so I didn't even miss him, not really. That, and it was easier to pretend," he shrugged.

"Pretend that it was his fault I rejected you?" she sighed. He nodded. "Well, he wasn't. But that's over now," she reminded him.

"I suppose so," he muttered, before stepping into his dressing room.

"Oh, and Will?"

"Yes?" he questioned, ducking his head back.

"I love you too, you know," she smiled. He chuckled, nodded, and then continued to change.

* * *

Neither Richard or Darcy were really one for long conversations, so it was simply a matter of a meaningful nod that day as everyone met at the Fitzwilliam house, and all was forgiven and forgotten. Both parties seemed very relieved for it, and it meant that Richard could now make as many tasteless jokes as he wished.

Eerin was glad that nonsense was over. She didn't like being angry with Darcy, even when she had a good reason to be. But, just when she was looking forward to being able to spend the day with Darcy and Richard as her buffers for Matlock, things took a bit of an odd change.

"The children can go outside to the garden, we'll be having morning tea at eleven, and there's a croquet set for them, if they wish," Matlock declared in his booming voice as everyone was assembled in the parlour. Before Eerin really know what was happening, Cyril was tugging on her arm, taking her outside to the conservatory by the large garden on the London townhouse.

"When grandfather gives you an instruction, it's best that you do it as quickly as possible," he informed her with his charming smile, his eyes twinkling in an almost frightening way. "And you're lucky, he's going to talk business with the adults, I doubt you want to hear about his latest stock ventures," he laughed, seating himself on the stone wall separating the conservatory from the pretty yard and garden.

"If I'm with Darcy, shouldn't I be in there too, then?" she questioned, glancing to Ana.

"No, you're a child to him, Miss Beaumont," Cyril informed her with a wry smile.

"Please, it's just Eerin," she insisted, looking through the glass of the conservatory doors to the garden outside with curiosity. It really was very nice, a pleasant relief from the oppressive atmosphere of the house.

"So, you and my uncle, then?" he questioned. Eerin glanced back to him with a slight frown.

"What about us?"

"He seems a bit old for you, that's all," he shrugged simply, rocking back and forth with a look of casual, almost boyish ease.

"They make a wonderful couple," Ana defended, pulling off her shoes and socks and lying on the grass in the sun just outside the conservatory.

"He just seems old to me, and I'm closer to his age than you are. I mean, you're only a little older than Ana, and he raised her," Cyril pointed out, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. "Want one?" he offered her. She shook her head.

"Well, he doesn't seem 'old' to me," she assured him, her tone tinged with the slight bitterness of defence.

"Even though he's your teacher?" he challenged with a raised brow as the cigarette dangled from his lips, grey smoke curling around his handsome features.

"He's not even thirty-five yet. That's still quite young, you know," she returned.

"And I'm sure no one will comment on the difference in fifteen years, but it's strange when you're only twenty, and he's your teacher," he shrugged, rising to his feet on the stone wall, and walking slowly back and forth, smoke occasionally puffing from his mouth and nose, creating some sort of sinister grey halo around his head. There was something about the way he walked and spoke and carried himself that unnerved her.

"Don't listen to him, Eerin. He's an idiot," Ana called lazily, stretching her arms out above her head as she basked in the warm glow of the sun.

"So's she, so I suppose it runs in the family," Cyril remarked with an airy, self-amused laugh.

Eerin chose to ignore him, and strolled through the garden, looking at the flowers, dipping her feet in the little koi pond in the corner. She and Ana sat together for a little while, chatting, as Cyril hung around on the stone wall, always with a cigarette dangling from his lips, making his odd comments through their conversation.

"What do you think they're talking about in there?" Eerin questioned curiously, glancing back to the house after an hour of their exile.

"You, probably," Cyril remarked dryly. Ana rolled her eyes.

"Maybe they're talking about how you got expelled from _another_ school, Cyril," she threw back pointedly. He laughed.

"I was never _expelled_ from Cambridge, I just left because I knew you were coming, dear," he drawled. "Besides, they've only offered me a suspension at Oxford. A donation or two and they'll adore me again," he added, lying back with his head on a stone.

"He's lying. No one wants him, no matter how much money Uncle Victor and Aunt Melissa throw at them," Ana commented beneath her breath.

"Well what's the point? I'll just go into the family business and father will tell me everything I need to know. It's just a waste of three or four years," he replied airily.

"Well you're almost finished anyway, so stop making it harder by getting yourself expelled!" Ana insisted. Cyril scoffed, but gave no reply.

"Ah yes, one more semester and I'll be thrown into the real world. I'm so frightened," he drawled. "What are you going to do, Eerin, when you've finished your degree?" he enquired, glancing to her attentively. "Apart from make my uncle's babies, of course," he added with a small smirk. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"I'm not just some sort of house wife. I _really _want to be a writer, but I thought it would be a bit stupid to admit that in there last night," she replied, leaning forwards with a tired yawn. She hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before; she too needed her lover beside her.

"Good. You'll be able to work from home and look after the household," he laughed. Ana threw a small pebble at him, only causing his laughter to grow.

"Stop being a prick, Cyril. Just because she doesn't want to ride off her parent's backs doesn't mean she's just going to end up being a housewife," she snapped.

"You're right, I'm sorry, Eerin," he chuckled, sitting up and squashing the remains of his cigarette into the brick wall. "Friends?" he questioned, plonking himself down beside her. She scowled.

"If you'll stop trying to make me sound like a baby-machine, then yes," she replied simply.

"Done. I won't mention it again," he assured her, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "There, sealed with a kiss. We're the best of friends now," he smiled, before reclining back on the grass and pulling another cigarette from his pocket.

Ana rolled her eyes and sent Eerin a sympathetic smile, before the two began discussing their plans for the rest of their London stay.

At eleven they were called back into the conservatory for a light morning tea, where this time Eerin sat next to Lucinda and Melissa, who were blabbering on to her about clothes and jewels and husbands, seemingly without breath. She couldn't help but feel bored out of her brain until they were finally permitted to go back to the townhouse after a late lunch, only after promising they would return for dinner later in the evening.

"So you spoke to Richard?" Eerin questioned Darcy anxiously, when they climbed out of the car, walking up to the house.

"Well, we reached an understanding. It's fine now," he assured her, leaning forward to press a kiss to her mouth. Despite Ana's cries of disgust, they did not break the kiss for a full minute. "Go inside, you're too young to see this," he instructed her with a small, teasing smile.

"Gladly. Eerin, hurry up, I want to go shopping before we have to go to dinner," she called out, before disappearing into the house. Eerin laughed.

"She's incorrigible," she smiled. He nodded in agreement.

"Yes, but sadly, you're not going shopping today. She had you last night, I get you this afternoon," he grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Your family is weird, by the way," she commented. He chuckled.

"Yes, very. I'm sorry about Matlock, he's very traditionalist in his ways," he apologised with a wry smile.

"It's Cyril who freaks me out. He kissed me today," she frowned thoughtfully. Darcy tensed slightly.

"Where?"

"In the garden."

"Is that a euphemism for something?" he drawled, rolling his eyes as she laughed. "Was it your cheek?" he then asked with concern, sliding his arms around her waist, as if to assert his place.

"Sort of, right here," she explained, tapping the corner of her mouth. "He promised to stop teasing me and he said he'd seal it with a kiss so we'd be the 'best of friends'. Seriously, he's like Dorian Gray, in that really creepy 'I'm so beautiful' way," she frowned.

"I don't know Cyril that well. He's always getting into trouble at school, he's been caught fooling around with the maids and just about anyone under the age of forty-five in his vicinity, but I haven't seen or heard anything that makes me think he's as bad as his father," he shrugged simply.

"Victor freaks me out as well. He and Cyril are _so_ alike, I'm just glad I haven't been anywhere near him," she muttered. Darcy nodded.

"As am I. And I'm planning on keeping it that way," he promised her, before taking her hand and leading her back up to the house. "But, since we're having dinner at his place tomorrow, you might run into him a bit more than I'd like. Please, for the sake of my sanity, make sure you're never alone with him," he begged.

"Is he really that bad?" she exclaimed. Darcy sighed, glancing around, and leading her silently into the library.

"There have been one or two 'scandals'," he began slowly. "It's always hushed up with the right amount of money and connections, and at least three maids have claimed that he... _accosted _them, but no conviction sticks," he explained. Eerin's eyes widened and she raised her hand to her mouth.

"Are you serious? How is he even allowed in public?" she questioned incredulously.

"Like I said, nothing sticks to him. He's too clever for that, and it's an overlooked occurrence in the Fitzwilliam family," he sighed, sitting on the edge of a writing desk by one of the tall bookshelves. "But he knows that there's a difference between a maid and his future cousin-in-law. And he also knows that if he tried anything on you, I would quite simply kill him. But I don't want you taking any risks," he said quite seriously. Eerin smiled.

"You're so cute when you're jealous," she informed him. He chuckled, and stepped forwards, sliding one hand over her hip.

"And _you_ happen to be very fetching when you consider something I've done 'cute'," he returned, his voice a low whisper. She raised a brow, and teasingly bit her lip as he groaned. "You minx, you know what that does to me," he accused, as if wounded, slowly minimising the space between their bodies.

"I know. That's why I do it in class all the time," she teased. Her giggles were silenced by his mouth on hers, and then all conversation was lost.

* * *

The next evening, Eerin couldn't help but think on Darcy's warnings with slight hesitation. She didn't want to go to Victor and Melissa's home, even though there was the prospect of spending an evening without Matlock's fearsome presence, and Catherine's cool disapproval. She knew Richard would be in attendance, which was reassuring, but if Victor was as bad as everyone said he was, nothing could make her brave enough to go.

"Are you ready?" Ana questioned, sticking her head into Eerin's dressing room. She looked beautiful, of course, in a short but classy emerald-green dress that brought out the colour of her eyes.

"I think so, but I'm beginning to understand why you bought so many dresses for me. Are we ever going to have dinner here?" Eerin questioned with a laugh, sliding into her cream heels. She wore a reasonably simple dress with textured apricot-coloured fabric, a clinched waist and a slightly flowing skirt that came a few inches above her knees.

"Sure, we have to host dinner sometime soon, so then we'll get to eat in," Ana shrugged, inspecting her reflection in the mirror with a happy little pout. "I like your hair like that, very sleek," she commented. Eerin rolled her eyes. "What?"

"You're so pro at this. Do you ever just curl up in front of the TV and eat toast for dinner?" she questioned curiously. Ana shrugged.

"When I'm at school, sometimes, but we're in London, Eerin!" she laughed. Eerin sighed as she stood up.

"Well, that's no excuse, but alright then," she grumbled, grabbing a cardigan.

Eerin could tell that she wasn't the only one with anxieties about the upcoming evening when the two girls met Darcy downstairs before they had to leave. He smiled (or rather grimaced), complimented their dresses and then led them out to the waiting car. Eerin suspected his nerves were more likely to have something to do with Richard, as even though they were in a state of tentative familiarity, they _did_ need to have something resembling a conversation.

"Ah, Darcy, ladies, welcome to our humble abode," Victor practically drawled as they were let into the front sitting room. Melissa was striking another dramatic pose, this time on a window seat, and Cyril was in the middle of a chess game with Richard, who looked bored already.

"Victor," Darcy nodded, before crossing over to Melissa and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek in way of greeting.

"Where's my kiss?" Richard questioned his cousin with a pout, puckering his lips as Darcy walked past.

"You can't imply I'm homosexual when I have a girlfriend, Richard," Darcy sighed boredly.

"All the better then, because I'm afraid that scary lumberjack beard you've got growing might prickle my sensitive skin," he exclaimed, rubbing his cheeks. "Come on then, girlie, pucker up," he commanded, riding to his feet and greeting Eerin with two enthusiastic kisses on either cheek. "How do _you_ handle the beard?" he questioned curiously, after releasing her.

"Oh, I like it. I think I'm the only reason he won't shave it off," she laughed. "It was a bit longer before, but this is nice, this permanent stubble thing," she smiled, gesturing to Darcy's face. He rolled his eyes as they took a seat on the chaise, Ana immediately sitting beside Richard, who appeared to be the light of her life.

"Well this is nice, dinner away from the Monster," Richard declared, happily turning away from the chessboard that Cyril was staring at with a frown. "Oh stop it, you would have won anyway," he waved him off.

"Cyril is very good at chess. He's quite clever, our boy," Victor informed the room, but his cool smile and his eyes, which were fixed on Eerin, seemed a great deal more personal than the statement would have implied. "Do you enjoy chess, Miss Beaumont?" he questioned not-so-innocently.

"I, uh, play a little, but I'm not 'very good', so I think Cyril would find me boring competition," she smiled politely. She could feel Darcy tense slightly beside her, but she didn't know why. Victor was making _her_ feel nervous; it wasn't as if he was under his scrutinising gaze himself.

"Oh, well in that case, _we_ should play some time. Cyril is too quick for me, but perhaps we could amuse each other in a playful match," he suggested, leaning back on the sofa with a comfortable, smug sort of grin.

"Sure. That sounds lovely," she smiled, but she felt sure it looked more of a grimace. Victor had all the charm and appeal of Cyril, but there was a sense of disgusting confidence about him that made Eerin feel twice as uneasy. It was as if he was undressing her with his eyes, and she was completely helpless against it.

"I'd like to play Eerin in chess," Cyril pouted, obviously annoyed that his father seemed to be treading on his territory.

"Play Darcy, he's the only one in this family who can beat you," Melissa suggested lazily, before giving a slight hiccup and taking a seat, somewhat ungracefully. She reached for her drink and swallowed back the rest of her gin with ease. "Oh, I'm sorry, would anyone else like a drink?" she offered, jumping to her feet once more.

"I'm fine, Melissa," Darcy said politely.

"I'm right," Eerin assured her. Melissa giggled, and plonked back on her chair.

"Good! So, family, how are we all?" she questioned eagerly, glancing around the room.

"Hanging in there," Richard declared, as if in toast, before taking a swig of his own drink. "So, Ana, squirt, pum-didly-umpkin, how are things at Cambridge?" he asked his young cousin.

"Oh, it's all going alright, I suppose. But you never visit me! It's so boring with Fitz in Australia, you have to stop racing around the world!" she admonished sternly. Richard chuckled.

"Hmm, well, I would, if I could, but I can't. Haven't found the wrong woman to settle down with again," he informed her with an apologetic smile. Ana rolled her eyes.

"You should travel to Australia again, Richard. It seems to be well-stocked of beautiful young women," Victor commented with a barely concealed smirk, pressing his fingers lightly against his mouth as his eyes roamed greedily over Eerin's figure.

"Actually, it was. How's that friend of yours, Carmen? I thought I might go back and see her again. Or would I be wasting the trip?" Richard questioned eagerly.

"She's _still_ too young for you, and we aren't actually on the best of terms anymore," Eerin replied, trying not to sound too hurt.

"Ooh, who threw the first slap?"

"Remember that weird little guinea-pig guy? Collins?" she reminded Richard, who frowned slightly, before nodding. "Well, they're an item at the moment, and my sense of hygiene and decency prevents me from being very excited about it," she explained with a slight shrug. "It's really a bit more complicated, but that's the gist of it," she added to his slightly horrified expression.

"Well, the woman has no taste."

"Considering the mild fling she had with _you_, I would agree," Darcy quipped.

"Har, har, har, shouldn't you be chopping wood?" he retorted dryly.

"That's it, I'm shaving it off," Darcy huffed to Eerin.

"You shave your beard, and I'll cut my hair short again," she challenged with a quirked brow. Darcy frowned, as if he were having some sort of internal struggle.

"The beard is staying," he sighed finally, wincing as Richard gave a little cackle.

"I believe the phrase is, as the yanks like to say, '_whipped_'," he sniggered.

"I'm not –"

"Don't even bother denying it, Will," Eerin laughed, winding her arm around his waist. He gave a slight smile at this sign of affection, and relaxed into the divan, as if he finally felt comfortable.

"Do they ever make you sick? With their... fondness for each other?" Richard questioned Ana with slight disgust.

"Only when they forget I'm in the room and start snogging like teenagers," she shrugged. "Or when he tells me they're going to go read a book or something. Here's a hint, _they're not reading_," she said in a hushed whisper, as Richard sniggered.

"Ana," Darcy scowled sternly. She rolled her eyes.

"Fitz, there's no point denying it," she retorted, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"It's very sweet that you two love each other so much," Victor drawled. Eerin had expected him to sound annoyed or disgusted, but if anything, he sounded _pleased_.

"Well, we're very happy together, Victor. And I look forward to our happiness increasing," Darcy added with the slightest hint of coolness to his tone, sending an icy glare across the drawing room to his cousin. What could have been a potentially awkward moment was interrupted with Melissa's hiccup as she spilt a little gin over her dress, and then began to giggle.

"Oops. Well, I'd best clean up and check on dinner then," she announced, unsteadily rising to her feet, and stalking out of the room. Victor glared at her with a sneer of disgust.

"I apologise for my wife. She sometimes enjoys herself a little too much," he said coldly, when she was out of earshot.

"And we love her for it," Richard sniggered.

"Eerin, perhaps I could give you a tour of the house. I'm sure we'll find something entertaining," Cyril suggested suddenly, turning to Eerin with an eager sort of smile.

"Uh –"

"Actually, I think that's a great idea. I'll come along too and point out all the places where I've thrown up," Richard interrupted wildly. Eerin flashed him a grateful smile as he jumped up and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet, and then Ana after her. Cyril looked rather sulky, but immediately took Eerin's arm and led her down the halls, with Richard and Ana struggling slightly to keep up.

When they had left, Darcy suddenly felt a good deal calmer. He knew that Richard would never leave Eerin alone with Cyril, and as long as she was a good distance away from Victor he was happy. Victor, however, did not appear to be so.

"It seems my son is enamoured with your young lady," he grunted, passing his own drink over his lips as he glared down the hall.

"Well, she's a very special young woman," Darcy shrugged.

"You did well, then. Fourteen and a half years, quite a considerable difference," Victor replied with a raised brow.

"I wouldn't say that was a selling point on the relationship."

"You'll marry her, then?" he questioned, quite casually. Darcy nodded.

"That's the plan."

"Father will never let you, you know. She's 'not one of us', as he felt it so polite to decide," he drawled.

"I don't need his permission," Darcy replied simply. Victor chuckled, and lowered his drink.

"You say that now," he muttered, shaking his head slightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Listen, Fitz. We all know you've done a wonderful job with Georgiana. But you have a responsibility to her, and this twenty-year-old student just doesn't cut it. You would be making a mistake," he warned sternly. Darcy only rolled his eyes. "We all know she's enchanting. She's pretty to look at and she has a head on her shoulders, but you'd best leave well enough alone and make sure this doesn't get serious," he continued firmly.

"Victor, you can give me all the subtle hints and brotherly advice that you want, but this _is _serious, I _will_ marry her, and there's nothing you _or_ your father can do to stop me," he threatened in return. Victor gave a wry grin.

"Hmm, I didn't think there would be, but I owed it to you to at least try," he sighed, draining the last of his drink.

Melissa appeared a few moments later in a new dress, informing them with a giggle that dinner was about to be served. The group emerged from down the hall, Eerin looking pleased that the 'tour' was now over, and Cyril looking put out that he couldn't have Eerin to himself

Darcy couldn't help but be slightly amused when he found Eerin being placed between Victor and Cyril, who were competing for her affections as the night went on. After dinner and dessert, it was Cyril suggesting they go for a midnight stroll and Victor discussing his wonderful collection of eighteenth century literature that she might be interested in having a look at. And then, they fought over who got to play her in chess, and as the evening wound down to a close, who got to walk her to the door and put on her coat.

He was, of course, concerned and disgusted by the attentions that they were showering on Eerin, but she seemed to handle it with a combination of baffled innocence and dry wit that left her immune to their empty flattery.

"I feel like the jeans Leena and Kylie used to fight over until they ripped them apart," Eerin sulked as she and Darcy climbed the staircase up to their bedroom back in Darcy's London townhouse.

"You're certainly in popular demand," Darcy chuckled. She sent him a small scowl.

"Why are you laughing? You should be defending my honour or something," she chastised. He hid his smirk.

"I know, and don't think that I like my relatives fighting over you," he assured her, before giving another small laugh. "But they were so ridiculous. It was like some sort of Footlights pantomime," he sniggered. Eerin rolled her eyes as she followed him into their bedroom, and threw herself down on the bed.

"You're mean," she muttered, glaring at him with narrowed eyes behind her dark fringe. He sat down on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hair back, before leaning forwards and pressing a light kiss to her nose.

"I like having you here, you know," he commented suddenly.

"It'd be a bit weird if you didn't," she grinned, peering up at him as she rolled over on her back and gently bit her lip. "I like being here," she added with a soft smile.

"Good, I wouldn't want to wake up and find that you've gone back to Sydney," he chuckled, winding his fingers through hers and looking down on her with a fond smile.

"When we _do_ get married, where will we live?" she asked him curiously. He shrugged.

"Where would you rather live?" he carefully replied. She gave a soft, thoughtful little 'hmm'.

"England, I think. I love it here," she sighed, stretching out on the bed with a comfortable yawn. "But won't we have to stay in Sydney for your job?" she questioned with a slight frown. He shook his head.

"No, I've written the syllabus and all the resources for the course, there's no reason someone else couldn't run it. I would like to introduce it to a few other universities. I have a friend at Cambridge who could put in a good word for me," he replied. She gave a slightly relieved smile.

"Good. I mean, I love Australia, don't get me wrong," she assured him, staring up at the top of their four poster bed. "And I'll miss it. I miss it even now, but... I dunno. I feel more at home with you and Ana here than I ever did back in the Shire with my sisters. I'd miss Maddy and Tom and Jan though," she muttered.

"You can always visit."

"Yeah. I suppose," she sighed, before looking back to him with a soft smile.

"You two are a bit _too_ cute," Ana commented with a slight wrinkle of her nose as she walked past the open door, having changed with impressive speed into her pyjamas. She leant against the doorframe and crossed her arms.

"I think she's jealous," Eerin whispered with a giggle. Darcy smirked knowingly.

"Hmm, she just wants attention," he smiled, glancing back to his sister.

"So no sleepovers?" Ana sighed dramatically.

"I knew it. She loves _you_ more now," Darcy exclaimed accusingly.

"I'm more lovable," Eerin defended, sitting up. "Sorry, bub, but he'll cry. We'll turn the library into a fort tomorrow, though," she assured her playfully. Ana beamed.

"Brilliant! Night then, you two," she called, before practically skipping down the hallway.

Darcy watched his sister go with a soft smile.

"You two get along well."

"Mm, she's sweet. I don't know where she got it from, though," she sniggered, rolling over on her side. Darcy scoffed, reclining back on the bed, putting his weight on his elbow as he passed a strand of her dark hair through his fingers.

"I'm glad that you two like each other. That means a lot to me," he commented thoughtfully. Eerin gave a small smile, and glanced up to him with dark eyes masked slightly by long lashes.

"You did a wonderful job on her, you know. She's a little stubborn, but she's certainly a credit to you," she informed him. He couldn't help but give a slightly sheepish grin.

"Thank you. That's... reassuring," he murmured, glancing to the place in the hall where Ana had stood a moment ago. "I still worry about her, though. I wish I could see her more, I like knowing that she's being taken cared of," he sighed.

"Mm, want to make sure she's not off pashing boys?" she asked teasingly.

Darcy froze, and whitened considerably.

"You don't think she's interested in boys, do you?" he exclaimed suddenly. Eerin looked up at him in disbelief.

"She's _eighteen_. I thought I was gay and I was still interested in boys when I was eighteen," she retorted blankly. Darcy sat up sharply.

"She's not allowed to have boyfriends."

"I think she'd be happy with just one, Will."

"Eerin, this is _not_ a laughing matter," he snapped in retort. She couldn't help but smile a little. "No, she's too young to have boyfriends. She has university to focus on, she wouldn't want any distractions," he said firmly.

"What, so girls in university shouldn't have boyfriends?" Eerin questioned with a raised brow.

"Precisely. It takes their minds off their schoolwork, which needs to be the top priority," he insisted, in a very matter-of-fact tone. "And I don't want her to start dating until she's settled down in a good job, either. And she should travel more," he continued.

"Is this girls in general, people in general, or just Ana?" Eerin questioned dryly. He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I think mostly women. I always found that men were better at balancing –"

Eerin silenced him with a glare, and he seemed to recall who was sitting beside him.

"Ah. Well, that is to say –" he began, but she rolled her eyes, and he didn't even bother.

"So you don't think girls should date in university?" she questioned with an arched brow.

"Well, of course it's different for us," he sighed with a slight roll of his eyes, as if he'd felt it so obvious he barely even needed to mention it. "I mean, we love each other, and we balance our schedules. It's different," he asserted firmly.

"So if Ana came home and told you that she's in love with her professor, and that she wants to move in with him and get married, then you'd be alright with that?" she challenged.

"Of course not."

"So why is it different for us?" she questioned. Darcy opened his mouth as if to reply, but no words came.

"Stop... trying to confuse me. Ana is two years younger than you," he insisted, with a slightly furrowed brow.

"Which makes it okay?"

Darcy growled in irritation.

"Ana isn't dating, and that's final. She's too young, she's not ready. _I'm_ not ready," he muttered bitterly. Eerin couldn't help but laugh.

"I think it's cute, you know. And it's especially cute that you lost your virginity when you were fourteen, and you still think that at eighteen Ana wouldn't be interested in boys whatsoever," she drawled teasingly, lying back on the bed once more, her dark eyes twinkling playfully. Darcy scowled.

"You're quite cruel, you know."

"Oh, I'm aware," she laughed, before her giggles became a fond smile as he looked remarkably put-out. "I can talk to her about it, you know. Boys, and stuff. I'm a girl, we're close in age, I think it would be appropriate," she offered with a slight shrug. Darcy looked thoughtful.

"Would you be able to tell her that she isn't allowed to have a boyfriend until I feel old enough to handle it?" he questioned hopefully.

"Well, I doubt she'd want to wait til she's ninety, but I can tell her that you're nervous about it all," she assured him. He frowned slightly, and then nodded.

"Alright, have a word with her. But don't encourage her to date, or anything. I couldn't handle that," he muttered sheepishly. Eerin grinned slightly.

"You're so cute."

"A more masculine adjective, please," he requested, leaning forwards and slipping his shoes off.

"Pretty?" she offered. He chuckled as he swung his legs over her and lay back in the bed with a sigh, the weight of his legs over her stomach pushing Eerin down onto the bed.

"Not even close," he sighed, as she giggled, trying to push his legs off.

"Beautiful!" she laughed, wishing he were ticklish even in the slightest, so she could get him to move with minimal effort. He just hummed slightly, closing his eyes and tilting his head up at the ceiling. "Alright, alright, you're very _handsome_," she said finally, sitting up as best she could, putting her weight on her elbows.

"And?"

"Egotistical," she scoffed. He yawned, making it clear that he had no intention of moving. "Alright, alright, you're handsome and sexy and dashing," she drawled finally. He smiled, and moved his legs off her.

"Good. I believe we've arrived at a consensus," he announced cheerfully. Eerin couldn't help but laugh at him as she slid up on the bed to lie at his side with a yawn. "Tired?"

"Mm. Your family are exhausting," she answered, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"Those are my relatives. You and Ana are my family," he assured her.

He glanced down when she didn't reply, only for him to realise that she was fast asleep.

**A/N: Wow, nice big chapter! Plenty of Fitzwilliam family creepiness, and some Darcy/Eerin/Ana cuteness. Fluff all round, folks, before the apocalypse. Cheerio!**


	34. Of History and Herstory

"_If we don't talk about the future, then should I just_

_Follow you into the dark?_

_And does your silence keep you cool,_

_While the cracks form on my heart?_"

-James Blunt, 'Best Laid Plans'

It didn't take long for things to settle down in London to something slightly more akin to a routine. They spent a great deal of time with the Fitzwilliam family, having awkward, disapproving dinners or lunches with Matlock and Lucinda, or awkward, lecherous evenings with Victor, Cyril and Melissa. It was all very glamorous, Eerin soon found herself running out of clothes with the amount of dinners and small, informal parties that were really very formal indeed.

She honestly had no idea if the family disapproved of her or not. She knew that nothing she could do would ever change the mind of Catherine, who now refused to dine with her or Darcy, but sometimes she felt that perhaps she was making a good impression on Matlock.

"If we move to England when we get married, will we have to do this every day?" Eerin questioned Darcy with a slightly worried frown as they climbed into their waiting car after another long evening with Matlock and Lucinda, Ana plonking herself rather ungraciously in her seat with an exhausted sigh.

"If we lived at the Pemberley house we'd be able to avoid most of this, I think," he assured her, his own yawn muffled as he pressed his palm against his mouth, and then slid into the seat, Eerin immediately curling down with her head on his lap, one of his hands loosely wound in her hair. "Ana, when Eerin and I marry, where do you want to live?" he questioned his little sister tiredly.

"Far, far away from here."

"Well, looks like we'll be in Derbyshire," he chuckled to Eerin, who gave a grateful sigh. "Anyway, we won't be here much longer before we go back to Sydney," he reminded his young love, who groaned slightly.

"Yeah, where we're probably going to have to tell my mother about us so I can move in with you," she challenged, alluding to one of their earlier conversations. As Jan would be living with Chase in their new house by the time they returned, Eerin could no longer convince her mother that she was staying in Jan's flat, and she'd either have to move back to the Shire (which Darcy was violently opposed to) or come clean with Mrs Beaumont about their situation.

"We'll manage," Darcy assured her with another tired sigh. She couldn't help but roll her eyes, 'we'll manage' had been his constant refrain for the past month and a half.

"Can I see the photos of the baby again?" Ana requested eagerly, diving for Eerin's purse to pull out her phone.

"You've seen them twenty odd times, cricket. Should we ask Jannali to put a twenty-four hour video stream of her stomach up for you?" Darcy drawled.

"But it's so cute! Jan must be _huge_ by now," she giggled, flicking through the ultrasound pictures that Jannali had emailed Eerin that morning of little Bingley Junior. "I wouldn't want to get pregnant, imagine walking up stairs with a giant watermelon belly," she laughed.

"Stop thinking about babies, Ana. You're eighteen," Darcy scolded sternly, before casting a desperate glance down to Eerin, who was smiling.

She had, as Darcy requested, spoken to Ana about boys and dating and relationships. Ana had been eager to discuss those issues with someone, and a veritable waterfall of information flowed from that young girl's mouth.

Yes, she wanted to date boys.

No, she hadn't really met any that she liked.

Yes, she'd had a boyfriend before, but they only held hands and kissed once on the mouth and three times on the cheek, and she broke up with him because she was scared her brother might find out.

No, she wasn't sleeping with anyone.

Yes, she did intend to be in the future.

"I want what you and Fitz have, you know?" she had commented a few weeks before, starry expressions in her green eyes as she clutched a pillow to her chest while the pair laid out of her large bed.

"What, you want to date a bloke almost fifteen years older than you who teaches your classes?" Eerin challenged with a laugh. Ana rolled her eyes.

"_No_, but you guys love each other so much. I mean, you make each other so happy," she explained with a dreamy sigh.

"Yeah, but we argue all the time."

"Really? What about?" Ana exclaimed with surprise. Eerin shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Everything, nothing. A lot of little things, but a lot of things are just us getting used to each other, I guess," she informed her, toying with the lace frills on Ana's bedspread. "I don't think you need to rush into anything. I'm lucky, I met your brother when I was nineteen, so I know that for the rest of my life I'm going to have something to live for," she shrugged with a fond smile.

"And I want that too."

"But, Ana, I kind of regret it, just a little," she added carefully. Ana immediately looked stricken.

"You didn't want to meet my brother?" she questioned incredulously.

"No, of course not!" Eerin insisted, shaking her head. "But... you know, I'm going to miss out on some things that other people might get," she explained slowly, considering her words. "Like... going out dancing and flirting with random blokes that I know I'm not even going to let buy me a drink. Dating, having fun being single, that sort of stuff," she added thoughtfully. "I think you should experience that. I love your brother, Ana. He's the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, but you're still young, and there's nothing wrong with enjoying being free and single for a little while longer," she finished gently.

Ana chewed her lip thoughtfully.

"Do you think I'll ever meet someone who loves me as much as Fitz loves you?" she asked quietly, almost fearfully. Eerin smiled.

"Of course you will. You just have to be patient," she assured her.

Eerin gave a fond smile at that memory, which seemed to soothe Darcy's concern somewhat. She related the conversation to him (all except the bit about Ana once having a boyfriend), and he seemed relieved that she had 'talked some sense into the girl', but it was going to be difficult for him, realising that his little girl was growing up.

"Oh be quiet, silly. Besides, if anyone should be thinking about babies it's you and Eerin," Ana challenged teasingly. Darcy rolled his eyes and shot Eerin an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, cricket, but you'll have to be content with the Bingley Baby for a few years yet," Darcy returned, sliding his hand into Eerin's and revelling in the warmth that her touch stirred in him.

"Well hurry up about it, I want to be an auntie," she commanded, before cooing as she found the ultrasound pictures. "Have they picked the name yet?" she questioned curiously.

"I don't think so. Jan has been emailing me for suggestions," Eerin smiled.

"What have you given her?" Darcy asked, with sudden curiosity.

"Oh, well, none of my personal favourites, but only half of them are serious," she smiled. "At the moment my top five for the Bingley Baby are Jack, Rumplestiltskin, Cooper, The Hulk and Noah. Jan really loves Noah, but I think Chase is leaning towards Jack," she informed them.

"Well, now I'm curious, what are your personal favourites?" Darcy questioned with a raised brow.

"Serious names, or names I'd _like_ to call a child?" she challenged dryly.

"Tell us both, and we'll see if we can guess," Ana said excitedly. Eerin sat up slightly.

"Why are you two getting excited? I'm not pregnant. These are _hypothetical_," she insisted.

"I want to know what my hypothetical son will be called one day, thank you," Darcy replied promptly. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I like Stephen Fry, and then I'd go backwards in levels of awesomeness, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Ralph Fiennes, Remus Lupin, Richard Armitage and Meat Loaf," she began with a slight laugh. "And maybe Jeremy Irons. I'm developing a bit of a thing for him. Maybe David Tennant. And Benedict Cumberbatch," she added thoughtfully.

"Seriously. What names do you like?" he questioned gently, after rolling his eyes.

"George, for a boy. Just George," she answered quietly, glancing up to him with a tiny, faint smile. Darcy's eyes widened in surprise. "What? What is it?" Eerin questioned, glancing between the two.

"Do you like that name too?" Ana asked in surprise. Darcy smiled at his little sister.

"That's your father's name, Ana. George Darcy," he explained, his eyes twinkling excitedly.

"Really? Your dad's name was George?" Eerin exclaimed. Ana looked thoughtful.

"It's weird. I didn't know his name," she commented. "What was her name? Your mum?" she asked her brother curiously.

"_Your_ mother too, Ana," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes. Eerin was familiar with the relationship between the two, Ana wasn't interested in learning about her true parents, she saw Darcy as her father and that was it.

"Anne. George and Anne," he replied. Ana gave a tiny smile at the thought. "You really like George?" he questioned Eerin, his lips twitching to a smile once more. She shrugged.

"Well, George William Darcy is pretty cute," she smiled cheekily.

"What about for a girl?" Ana challenged. Eerin looked thoughtful.

"Well, it's tradition, so all my sisters and I would have to give our daughters Koori names," she shrugged. "So I reckon Miah, for the moon," she replied with a shrug.

"I like Miah," Darcy commented quietly.

"And then, of course, we're all free to use whatever we want as a middle name, so I reckon Miah Claire, although I really like Florence," she added thoughtfully. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Can we make a deal that we won't name our children after celebrities or musicians?" he practically begged.

"So I can't use kid Lady Gaga?"

Darcy's glare said it all.

"What others do you like?" Ana questioned excitedly.

"Oh, I haven't got any others, I wouldn't need any more," she answered simply. Darcy chuckled. "What?"

"We're going to need more than one of either sex."

"If you're the one carrying these theoretical children around and giving birth to them, then go ahead and pick all the names you want," she retorted with a raised brow. "I just like naming them. The rest of the child birthing and parenting stuff I'm not interested in."

"We'll see," Darcy hummed, leaning his head back against the seat and giving another tired sigh.

By the time the car pulled up in the driveway of their London house, Darcy had fallen into sleep, and Ana was dozing off, but Eerin was thinking.

It occurred to her that it was now a decided, accepted fact that yes, they would be getting married, and yes, they would be having children, and _yes_, they would be living in England. She wondered when these decisions had been made, and if there was some sort of line that marked this change. After all, Darcy hadn't actually _proposed_ to her, and she wasn't wearing an engagement ring. In fact, they weren't even properly living together. They were in some sort of state of limbo, but somehow England had been drawing them closer and closer together.

"Will? Come on, wake up," she whispered, shaking her lover's shoulder slightly. He blinked suddenly, and sat up with a tired yawn.

"Mm. Sorry, must have drifted off," he murmured, glancing over to Ana, who was now fast asleep. He smiled. "Lord, it's been an age since she fell asleep in the car," he said softly, leaning forwards and picking her up, before carefully climbing out of the car with Ana's arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders.

Eerin couldn't help but smile at the image. He really did love Ana to death, and Ana knew and accepted him and only him as her father.

He would be a good father, she thought, before correcting herself. He already _had_ been a father, so if one day George William or Miah Claire Darcy _did_ exist, he would know exactly what to do, and he'd be able to show her, too.

"I'm sorry she brought up children. I know you don't like talking about that," Darcy yawned with a tired, apologetic smile as he joined her in their bedroom.

"What makes you think I don't like talking about kids?" Eerin challenged with surprise. He blinked.

"Well – you've always avoided the topic as best you can, and you said you just wanted to be an Aunt before," he shrugged, beginning to remove his tie.

"Well, that's true, I guess," she admitted thoughtfully, before softly biting her lip. "But... I mean, you're so good with Ana, and Tom just loved you," she said slowly, as if she were considering something. "So... well, you know what you're doing, and it wouldn't be nearly as hard as I thought it would be, so... I think I would like to have a baby, you know," she shrugged finally.

Darcy stared at her.

"Now?" he questioned with surprise. She rolled her eyes.

"No, you idiot," she scoffed.

"No, I don't mean now, _now_, but – in nine months?" he reiterated, staring at her as if she'd just grown another head. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her in horror or in hope. She shook her head almost violently, and he nodded, slowly.

"I just mean, you know, _one day_, in the not so distant future, I'd like to have a kid," she shrugged. He stared at the carpet in determination, still nodding very slowly, as if he were considering what she was saying. "But – but you want kids, don't you?" she frowned.

"Hmm? Oh, of course I do," he assured her.

"So why are you... I don't know, looking like I've just terrified the shit out of you?" she questioned with concern. He sighed, and sat down on the bed beside her, taking her hand.

"I'm not terrified. I'm worried," he replied honestly. He turned to her with a slight frown. "Are you saying that because you know that I want to have children?" he asked, reaching for her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"No. Well, I don't think so," she answered slowly, with confusion. "I don't know. I always told myself I couldn't do it, because I'd be an awful mother, but you know exactly what you're doing, so I don't think it would be that difficult. I'd have you to teach me," she explained, struggling slightly to put words to her thoughts as she leant forwards on the edge of the bed.

"I don't think you're ready to have a child, Eerin. It's a huge responsibility," he said gently, stroking back her short dark hair from the side of her face.

"You're the one always talking about marriage and Derbyshire and kids –"

"I know, but – "

"So if you _want_ these things, and you want them with me, then what's wrong with me wanting them too?" she demanded.

"There's nothing wrong, Eerin," he assured her gently, with a small, comforting smile. "And, when you were talking about names for a theoretical son or daughter, I was half tempted to throw out your birth control and let nature take its course," he chuckled, softly stroking her hair with his large, warm hand.

"But?"

"But, it would be very selfish of me to do so. You're nowhere near ready. _I'm _nowhere near ready, no matter how much my instincts are telling me that it's what I want," he explained gently.

"I didn't mean _now_, I just meant... bleugh," she huffed angrily. "I meant that... I used to think I wouldn't want a kid, but now I _would_ like to have one. One day," she said, her voice firm and insistent. She could feel Darcy nod, but he was silent for a minute or two.

"You know how you... told Ana that she's too young to try to jump into a serious relationship? That she needs to experience life a little more?" he murmured nervously.

"I wasn't lying."

"I'm worried I might have... made you grow up a little too quickly," he confessed, meeting her eyes with obvious guilt. "You're twenty years old. You shouldn't – there's no need for you to decide now that you want children," he explained, when she frowned in confusion. "H – Have I pushed you? Into all of this?" he asked with great concern.

"Will, you're making a pretty big deal out of this," she replied. He sighed, and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Maybe I'm a little young to be so serious with a bloke I've only known for a little while. But it's what I want," she insisted with great conviction.

"But Ana –"

"Ana is different. Ana is sheltered and young and inexperienced," she said firmly. "Trust me. I want to be with you, I want to marry you, and one day, I want to have kids with you. If I didn't, why have I risked my sister and the respect of my family to be with you?" she challenged, with a raised brow. "And I _know_ I'm not ready for all that quite yet, so I'm trusting you to tell me when I am. When you and I both think I'm ready to get married and have kids and move across the planet, then we'll do all that stuff, alright?" she decided, the expression of her eyes softening. Darcy smiled.

"Thank you. That's quite the honour," he murmured softly, reaching for her hand, and pressing his lips to her fingers.

"Well, just don't abuse it, and we'll be fine," she replied with a twinkle in her dark eyes, before Darcy released her so she could go change for bed.

"Why did you want to name a child George?" he asked curiously, just before she disappeared into the change room.

Eerin flashed him an apologetic smile.

"It's a band I like," she laughed, before leaving him chuckling in their bedroom, shaking his head slightly.

* * *

As the remaining days that Eerin and Darcy were to stay in London trickled away, it became gradually more obvious that they needed to host dinner at their own house sometime before their return to Australia. Eerin, for her part, could not be looking forward to the task less.

Mrs Reynolds had increasingly been consulting her on the running of the household, from simple things about meals, to the décor of the master suite. Eerin was gradually becoming aware of the fact that she was being groomed for her future position as 'mistress' of the house. And to be perfectly honest, she would rather someone else take up that responsibility.

"Why do we need to host anything anyway? It's just going to end up with your uncle criticising me and your cousin peering down my dress all night," Eerin snapped to her lover as she shuffled through seating plans and menus for the dinner she was attempting to organise.

"It's just a simple dinner, and it'll go a long way in showing my uncle that you can be a wife," Darcy sighed, glancing up from the book open on his lap as he sat on the settee in the library's first floor, where he and Eerin had taken to spending a lot of their spare time.

"If he thinks that I'm going to plan dinners and parties for the rest of my life, he's got another –"

"We need him to approve of this, Eerin," he reminded her sternly. She scoffed, and rolled her eyes.

"Why? It's our lives," she snapped.

"Look at that picture, Eerin," he instructed, pointing up at the large portrait hanging over the mantle, where some past relatives of him stood in all their Regency finery, gazing down on the young couple below.

"I thought you told me that was just a copy," she frowned, glancing over the two faces. One was a young woman, probably only her age, with lovely rolls of chocolate hair and bright, expressive dark eyes, and the other, her husband, she could only assume, stood close beside her with a slightly disapproving expression, his features, which were so similar to Darcy's, were softened slightly by the hand on the side of the woman's waist.

"It is, the original is in Pemberley. That is my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather Darcy and his wife Elizabeth, my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother," he informed her, pointing his reading glasses at the portrait with emphasis. "In 1812, when they were married, he had an engagement set commissioned for Elizabeth, as the set his mother had worn was in possession of his aunt, Lady something or other, and she refused to honour their marriage by returning it to him," he began in his best stern-professor tone. "This is their first portrait as man and wife, and you can see her wearing the set," he added.

Eerin peered closer at the portrait. The woman wore several pieces of white gold with diamonds, but somehow managed to make them look elegant and tasteful. There was a necklace, bracelet and set of rings, as well as a comb in her hair that she assumed was a part of the set. She couldn't see it in great detail from such a distance, but it was beautiful. The diamonds had the slightest hint of coloured hue to them, and somehow the artist had captured how they seemed to be both blue and pink and green at the same time. They made the young woman look simply radiant.

"Now that set has been in my family for almost two hundred years now. It's currently sitting in a safe in the Fitzwilliam house, waiting to be given to the next Mrs Darcy," he informed her factually, returning his glasses to the end of his nose. "You might be a little curious as to why I haven't actually proposed to you yet," he added, glancing once more to the portrait. "It's because Matlock won't give me the set until he's happy with you, and _that_ is the only ring that's good enough to go on your finger," he said somewhat pointedly.

Eerin couldn't help but smile.

"You're going to propose to me?" she questioned, biting her lip as she fought a grin. He rolled his eyes.

"Of course I am. My family has a very long history of romantic, if not at first unsuccessful proposals," he smiled quietly, returning his attention to his book.

"Really? Like what?"

He sighed slightly, as if he were annoyed to be distracted, but she knew that he wasn't.

"Well, take Mr and Mrs Darcy right here," he began, nodding up to the painting. "I can't remember his name, but I'll have it written down somewhere. He was socially at a much higher rank than dear Elizabeth, but regardless of his money, she turned him down over some misunderstanding of character, or something or other," he began informatively. "He had to rescue her family from social ruin and before she finally started to fancy him. He was rejected by his mother's very noble side of the family for the union, but he didn't care one bit," he continued with a soft smile. "He later became a Lord in his own right, so they ended up scrambling back to him, but the point is still there," he chuckled.

"He looks severe," she commented thoughtfully.

"I don't know why, he loved her very much," he commented.

"How do you know?"

"I've read some of their letters. My great-uncle was quite interested in the Darcy family history, so he actually wrote a book in which you can read some of the letters, but the originals are still in Pemberley," he informed her, rising from his chair and crossing the library to pull a heavy volume down from the shelf. He went and sat down on the settee, where Eerin eagerly joined him as he flicked through pages.

"That's so cool, that you have all that family history," she murmured thoughtfully.

"Some of it is interesting, a lot of it is just dull," he commented, before finally finding the pages he was searching for. "Here it is, November, 1815," he began, after clearing his throat rather dramatically.

"'_My darling Elizabeth,_

_On this evening I find myself fondly thinking back on an afternoon several years ago, where the misery I felt then seemed like the end of the world, but is a mere trifle compared to the longing I feel now to be with you at this very moment. _

_It is raining in London, my love; I sit in our library watching the drizzle pour down on these miserable streets. My new steward is with me now, a pleasant enough fellow with good business sense, but I find myself hating him as each seemingly endless meeting is another evening I cannot spend with you. _

_I received your last letter, and am pleased that Edmund is fairing so well. I long to see him again. I know that by the wizened age of three he must be now used to my absences, but he did look at me with such accusation when I had to tear myself away last month. But I am sure that you have a great deal to occupy yourself with at this time, and my complaints cannot be high on your list of concerns. I can admit curious suspicion to this 'surprise' that I await on my return, as you have assured me it is something that I will consider agreeable, I am anxious to hurry my stay here in London. _

_Another two weeks and I shall be able to hold you in my arms, my love, and I am desperate for that time. _

_Forever yours,_

_FD_.'"

"That's so sweet," Eerin cooed, peering over her lover's shoulder at the letter he had just read. "Do you know what the surprise was?" she asked curiously.

"Well, I can only assume, given the dates, that she was going to inform him of her pregnancy," he replied thoughtfully. "They had three children over the years, but he also mentioned a miscarriage at some point," he added with a slight frown.

"That's sad."

"It was a different time, love. Medicine was quite crude then," he sighed, flicking through the pages. "I think they were very happy, though. They loved each other a great deal," he added, before closing the book.

"So does this mean that I have to reject your first proposal to keep up the tradition?" Eerin questioned, with a raised brow. He chuckled.

"You already did, if you recall," he reminded her.

"Did I?" she frowned.

"Mm, when I first admitted that I loved you I told you that I wanted you to be my partner in 'every sense of the word'," he smiled, his eyes twinkling cheekily. She looked to him with complete surprise.

"You meant... as your _wife_?" she exclaimed. He nodded.

"Indeed I did. That's why I'm being a bit more careful with the second proposal," he replied smugly.

"Wow. I had no idea," she muttered in surprise.

"If you had, what would you have said?" he asked with one raised brow. Eerin shrugged.

"I actually think I would have probably freaked out a little less, to be honest," she answered slowly. He looked at her with confusion. "I didn't think you were serious. I thought you just wanted to sleep with me," she apologised.

"Well, I _did_, but I wanted to marry you as well," he assured her. She laughed.

"Well. That might have actually changed how I went about that conversation," she hummed. "Not my answer. I still would have turned you down, but I might have pitied you enough to let you explain yourself properly, before you dug yourself into a grave," she added quickly.

"And I would have explained what I thought was going on with Chase and your sister, and that you had the wrong idea about Graham," he said blankly. She nodded.

"Yup. And it would have told me why you were always acting so weird around me," she added thoughtfully. Darcy groaned and slid down to lie on his back on the settee.

"All the time I wasted."

"Yeah, that was your fault, not mine," she replied cheerfully. He rolled his eyes.

"Well, the next time I propose, I promise that I'll warn you before so you realise what I'm doing," he drawled.

"That would be appreciated," she chirped instantly, to which he could only scoff.

**A/N: So I've spent the entire day drinking copious amounts of tea and shuffling between my bedroom and the study as I gather research for this magic/socialism book I'm working on. I've started that frustrating phase of writing when I can see where it's going to end up, but I have no idea how to get there, and I usually resolve that stage by scribbling everything out over hundreds of pieces of paper, which I invariably misplace.**

**Now I'm speaking some of my ideas aloud, and the conversation is directed to my three unicorns Proserpine, Stephen and Reginald. Even **_**they**_** think it's a stupid idea. I know I should actually talk about this chapter or something, but I'm frankly so not in that head space right now, and have to consult Stephen on my characterisation. **

**Tootles. **

**-Evie**

**PS: I'm in a weird mood. Lots of caffeine and rain does that to me. **

**PPS: Oh. Next chapter is a doozy. Lots of angst, and a sensitive issue for some. But I've consulted my unicorns, and they assure me all will be well. This has been confirmed by my Phantom of the Opera Build-a-Bear and Winnie the Pooh. I have yet to hear any information from my totoro. **


	35. Of Violence and Victor

**A/N: Just a note, this chapter features what I believe will be a somewhat sensitive issue from some readers. It is not graphic and it does not exceed the rating, but you have been warned, regardless.**

"_Don't get stuck, baby sister, leave this land, _

_Read your books, baby sister, wash your hands  
Or he'll beat you, he'll bleach your eyes,_

_So be a good girl, just for the night, and run..._"

-Damien Rice, 'Baby Sister'

Eerin was a bit more amiable about the arrangements for the dinner party with the knowledge that it was actually serving some purpose, and that it was an important purpose for Darcy, to be able to propose to her with a family heirloom. She caught herself staring up at that portrait several times as the days went by, and she even dug out the book with the letters Darcy had read to her from.

She found in the letters from this Elizabeth Darcy a kindred spirit. Elizabeth, or Lizzy as she preferred to be called, had come from a family with five daughters, and they were a great deal poorer than the Darcys. She too had to suffer his snobbish, disapproving family, but she too loved her husband, even if she found the challenges of running a household sometimes too much for her. In their letters Elizabeth seemed to be enduring the same things that Eerin was going through, only, from F Darcy's view, she handled them with grace and spark.

Somehow, knowing all this history had soothed her concerns in her new position. She felt like if Elizabeth could do it, so could she, and she threw herself into the running of the household with vigour.

The dinner itself was the night before Darcy and Eerin's final evening in London, and as their departure to the airport had to be so early in the morning, it wasn't possible for any real festivities. This meant that the dinner at the Darcy townhouse was to be some sort of send-off, so it had to be the most formal of their stay.

"Are you ready?" Darcy asked his lover with a small smile as he watched her nervously check the rooms to make sure they were all clean and ready before the Fitzwilliams arrived.

"Um, I think so. Everything is ready, I think, so this should work," she muttered anxiously.

"Let me guess, you think?" he retorted with a playful smile. She rolled her eyes.

"I just want this to go right," she insisted, before giving a sigh of frustration. "I guess I want to show them that I can handle all this. Because I _can_, and I'm sick of them doubting me," she explained, with a slight smile.

"Just as long as you realise that it doesn't matter why they think. My family aren't marrying you, _I _am, so there's nothing they can do that will stop me from spending the rest of my life with you, family heirlooms aside," he assured her with soft insistence. She smiled gratefully, and nodded.

"Good. Sometimes I don't believe you," she smiled cheekily, before giving one final sigh and glance over of the room. "Alright, I guess I had better go get changed," she decided, making a move to leave the room.

"I'm proud of you, Eerin," Darcy said suddenly. She turned, a slight flush rising to her cheeks.

"Thank you," she practically whispered, stepping forwards and pressing a kiss to his mouth, before excusing herself to go ready herself for the evening ahead.

Darcy watched her head up the stairs with a small smile. She had been handling herself wonderfully the past few days, she wasn't letting his family get her down, and in fact, she was blossoming in spite of them. He knew that evening was going to be a testament to her efforts, and she was going to let his uncle realise that she wasn't someone who could easily be pushed aside.

She appeared with Ana half an hour later, a vision in a pale pink cocktail dress of feather-light silk, the necklace he had given her for her birthday hanging perfectly around her slender neck. Ana also looked very beautiful in midnight blue, with her dark hair swept over into a side plait and her green eyes twinkling excitedly.

"You both look stunning," he smiled to his two ladies. Eerin blushed prettily and Ana scoffed.

"He really only means _you_, Eerin. But she does look really pretty," she praised with a laugh.

"You look lovely too, cricket," he assured his sister.

"Like I said. He means you," Ana giggled, immediately skipping over to the coffee table, where she picked herself up a small entrée.

"No one's arrived yet?" Eerin questioned with slight nervousness. Darcy couldn't help but chuckle as he poured her a glass of wine.

"Don't worry, it's only ten to," he reminded her, passing her the glass. She sipped it gratefully, and smoothed out her dress. "Everything is going to be fine, love. You just need to calm down," he said gently.

"Ooh, goodie, Richard is here," Ana said excitedly, peering out the window as she saw a familiar, very showy Chrysler roll through the front gates.

"I only hope we have enough wine for him," Darcy drawled with a teasing smile, taking Eerin's hand and leading her through the hall to go greet his cousin.

"Hullo there, my lovelies," Richard beamed as he practically bounced into the foyer.

"Richard, this is quite punctual for you," Darcy drawled, raising his brow with slight surprise.

"I figured I'd get a good head start on some drunkenness so this evening could be vaguely endurable," he commented cheerfully, immediately taking the wine from Eerin's hand. "Ta, darling. You're looking _very_ fetching this evening," he commented appreciatively, stepping forwards and winding his arm around Eerin's waist.

"Well, I wanted to look good for you, Richard," she sighed dramatically.

"I can't wait til I get you drunk enough to sleep with me," Richard sniggered, pressing a quick kiss to either side of her face before releasing her.

"No amount of liquor could make that possible, Richard," Darcy drawled, looking vaguely horrified as his cousin drained the glass of one without taking breath.

"If I have to force her to drink rubbing alcohol, cuz, I'm prepared to do so," he replied bravely, before strolling into the drawing room. "So, I'm the first one, then? Not even our dear auntie has pitched up a tent a day in advance?" he drawled, glancing around the room.

"Catherine is being her usual disapproving self, Richard, and has renounced any relation to me," Darcy replied sternly, fetching Eerin another glass of wine. "Ana, step away from the window, you might fool them into thinking your anticipation means we want them here," he instructed his sister, who rolled her eyes, and dramatically threw herself down on the chaise by Richard.

"He's so mean to me, Richard," she pouted.

"He's mean to me too, sprout. He denies me access to our lovely Eerin," he explained in not-so-hushed tones.

"I forgot if I'm pretending to be his wife or his daughter," Eerin commented thoughtfully. Richard frowned.

"Me too. How 'bout my bitch?" he suggested.

"Richard, watch your language," Darcy scolded, before passing Eerin her new glass of wine, and refilling Richard's.

"This is a good sign for the rest of the evening, you know. Plenty of wine," Richard commented cheerfully, taking a large mouthful from his glass as they heard another set of wheels roll up the drive, signalling the arrival of Victor, Melissa and Cyril.

Eerin wasn't looking forward to _those_ particular guests. Victor and Cyril still intimidated her in their perverse ways, and Melissa was still a shameful and embarrassing drunk. But they at least weren't as bad as Matlock.

By the time Matlock had arrived, he was over half an hour late, and everyone was on their second glass of wine (fifth for Richard and Melissa). Eerin greeted the stoic, disapproving man with charm and cheerfulness despite his lateness, and, like the good little hostess she was, made sure he was comfortable and had a glass of fine wine in his hand before he insulted her too much.

"So. You two will be back to Australia soon then," Matlock commented gruffly, glaring to the couple on the sofa opposite him.

"We leave tomorrow night," Darcy replied with a small nod.

"And when do you return?" he challenged, raising one bushy brow as he balanced his glass on his protruding belly.

"We haven't quite decided yet, but probably before Christmas," he answered politely.

"Will it be your first Christmas in England, Eerin?" Cyril questioned, his steely eyes centred in on Eerin.

"Um, yes, I guess it will be," she answered with a slightly perturbed smile.

"You'll spend it in London, of course. Too delicate to take the Derbyshire winter yet," Matlock said in his usual gruff tones. Somehow, he made 'delicate' sound like 'weak', but it wasn't like Eerin had any opportunity to refute that.

"Splendid. I'm sure we'd all love to see the lovely Miss Beaumont come Christmas," Victor declared, his eyes sweeping over Eerin's body with obvious intent. "Or perhaps she'll be _Mrs Darcy_ by then, hmm?" he challenged, glancing back to his cousin, who was clenching his jaw tightly.

"Perhaps she will," he growled possessively. The tension between the two was broken with one of Melissa's drunken hiccups, and one of Lucinda's disapproving scoffs.

"I, um, found some letters discussing the Christmas celebrations at Pemberley. Does it snow there in December?" Eerin asked curiously, trying to ease the heavy silence.

"Sometimes. Christmas at Pemberley was always very special," Darcy answered, tearing his steely eyes away from his cousin.

"I tell you, she won't be going to Pemberley for Christmas," Matlock snapped curtly. Eerin jumped slightly with his stern tone. "She'll be here, in London, and Lucinda can teach her how to run the household. It's clear from this shambles that she hasn't a clue," he growled, waving his hand around the room.

"I'm sure that she'll manage," Darcy returned firmly.

"And I say that it doesn't matter, because she will be _here_, and that is my final word on the matter," he barked sharply. Eerin placed a hand on Darcy's arm before he could speak again.

"You know, perhaps you're right," she said with a cool smile. She was beginning to realise Matlock's game – she was trying to bait her and Darcy into snapping, so he could get rid of her easily. He narrowed his eyes at her, and then scoffed beneath his breath. She couldn't help but think there was something bitter to his scoffs, which only made her feel rather smug.

"And we would all be quite bereft without you," Victor added, raising his glass slightly, his eyes narrowing over the rim. Eerin blushed at his obvious advances, but did not show her discomfort in any way more conspicuous than by taking Darcy's hand.

Dinner was called not long after. Eerin had thought long and hard over seating arrangements for the evening, and for the menu for dinner. She was fairly confident that things would go well, but, she reminded herself constantly, she always had to leave some leeway for the Fitzwilliam family.

Dinner was, therefore, quite awkward. Matlock began a booming list of all the duties Eerin would have to learn before she and Darcy married, and Lucinda occasionally interjected with her own motherly, but somehow equally insulting advice.

"And this vegetarianism is nonsense. Will you force your husband and children to eat nothing but potatoes and celery?" Matlock drawled coolly, turning to her with a raised brow.

"Of course not. I've never _forced_ my eating habits on anyone else," she replied, with slight affront. He grunted, and returned his attention to his roast beef, as if it were really just an eggplant.

"Well it's unnatural. Perhaps for someone like _you_ it's quite normal, but the Darcy family are a different standard, and you need to make more of an effort to be a part of that," he snapped.

Eerin clenched her hands tightly, and bit her tongue to stop herself from responding.

It just wasn't _fair_. What had she done wrong to the man that deserved such rude treatment? She was a _person_, she loved Darcy and Ana, and she was prepared to give up her old life for them. What more did Matlock _want_ from her?

Darcy changed the topic quickly, aware of his lover's anger. She couldn't help but bitterly stew for a few minutes as discussion turned to weather and cricket, but she was grateful, at least, that as she had no knowledge whatsoever of cricket, she wasn't expected to partake in conversation.

Dinner passed without further incident, and the party moved to the drawing room, with the usual divides of 'adults' and 'children'. Cyril and Ana pulled out a chess set out of mutual boredom and Cyril began slaughtering his cousin in the game. Eerin slipped out of the small but welcoming sitting room that they had been banished to, and walked quietly down the hall, until she could hear the fragments of conversation from the front drawing room behind the closed door.

"You're being too hard on her, uncle. She's not a child," she heard Darcy defend, his voice serious and concerned.

"She's twenty bloody years old, Darcy. When are you going to give up this façade?" Matlock demanded angrily.

"It's no _façade_, uncle. I've never been more serious about anything than I am about marrying her," he threw back. Eerin couldn't help but feel a little pride swell in her heart at his words.

"She doesn't – hic – _fit in_, Darcy," Melissa tittered drunkenly.

"She fits in better than you did when you first married my brother, Mel," Richard retorted pointedly.

"You're making a mistake with this, boy," Matlock growled. "It only serves to prove that you _were_ addled in the head all those years ago, and that we never should have trusted you with Georgiana," he continued sharply.

Eerin wanted to cry out angrily at him, but there was nothing she could do behind that door.

"Ana has nothing to do with this," Darcy snapped.

"Her chances in life will be _ruined_ by this marriage, Darcy! You're being selfish," Lucinda replied curtly. She heard Darcy give a growl of frustration.

"I've devoted myself to Ana for eighteen years, and now, when I want the slightest bit of happiness for _myself_, you're trying to deny that to me?" he demanded angrily. "If you push me on this, uncle, you'll lose all of us. Ana will never speak to you again, and you'll never meet your future great-nieces and nephews. Pemberley will be closed to you," he threatened.

"Any offspring you have with that little slut would be no relative of mine," he spat back curtly.

"Father, you have _no_ right to say that about her," Richard snapped.

"I'm the head of this family, aren't I? She's worthless, Darcy. You're an even bigger fool than your father," Matlock snapped.

"I don't think you're supposed to be listening to this conversation, my dear," came a quiet, velvety whisper from behind Eerin. She jumped, and almost screamed to see Victor standing right behind her, a cool smirk on his lips.

"How long were you standing there?" she demanded in an angry hiss. He chuckled quietly.

"Long enough to hear what my father thinks of you," he replied with a shrug, taking her arm, and leading her down the hall. "Now, my dear. Some words are being exchanged that will do nothing more than upset you, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" he said, raising one brow expertly. Eerin shivered slightly, this man frightened her like very few people ever had.

"I was just about to go back to the sitting room," she mumbled, trying to pull away from him, but he had her arm in his hold.

"Let's take a stroll, Eerin. There is only unpleasantness in this house at the moment," he commented, leading her out to the conservatory, where the moonlight shone through the glass ceiling and lit the room up with eerie blue light. "Now, you _must_ know that my father isn't the easiest man to please," he began, in a stern, slightly patronising way.

"I noticed that," she drawled, wishing she could just go back to the sitting room and watch Ana be beaten at chess. She didn't want to be anywhere near Victor.

"But I like you, Eerin. And my cousin likes you. In fact, just about everyone but my parents likes you," he smiled, the moonlight catching his green eyes and making them shine eerily as he leant against the doorframe. Eerin wasn't oblivious to the fact that the door was closed, although she didn't know when he had closed it.

"I don't care what he thinks. I love Darcy, and that's all that matters," she insisted as firmly as she could.

"Yes, that's very admirable," Victor chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "But not always enough. There are very few people my father thinks are good enough to breed with a Darcy or a Fitzwilliam," he drawled.

"Well we don't need his permission. Now, I really have to get back," Eerin muttered, making to move forwards.

"No, you don't. They'll be arguing for the next year in there," he assured her kindly. Somehow, with just a simple nod, he managed to still her, her entire body tensing with sudden fear.

"They'll be worried about where I am," she insisted, her throat suddenly feeling very dry. She glanced around – the doors to the garden were locked for the night, and she didn't have the key to open them. She looked back to the door helplessly, where Victor was still staring at her with a slight smirk.

"No, they won't," he said simply, taking a step forwards. She stepped back instantly.

"Please, Mister Fitzwilliam. I have to get back," she said firmly, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Mm, Mister Fitzwilliam? I think, my dear, that 'Victor' is a bit more appropriate," he chuckled dangerously, reaching for her arm. She pulled away, but his hands gripped tightly over it.

"You're hurting me," she gasped, feeling pain stab down her limbs. She couldn't believe what was happening. She wanted to be out of that room _immediately_. "Let me go!" she snapped, pulling away from him, but he only gripped her tighter, and tugged her towards his body. She wanted to scream, but before she knew what was happening, she felt herself falling back on the settee that she hadn't even noticed was there, with Victor leaning down over her and pressing her with the weight of his heavy body.

"Mm, feisty, are we?" he chuckled against her hair, one hand held tightly over her mouth. She tried to scream against his palm, but no sound came out. She tried to bite him, she tried to kick or push him away, but he was too heavy.

When she felt the obvious manifestations of his intentions against her thigh, she suddenly realised what was going to happen. She struggled violently, feeling tears burn in her eyes, but he was too strong, and her arms and legs were pinned beneath his frame. His free hand roamed freely over her body, pulling on the neckline of her dress until she heard it tear, and she felt the cold air hit her now uncovered chest before his rough hands grabbed her cruelly.

"Don't _struggle_, my dear," he commanded with a rough chuckle that send shivers of fear down her spine. "Oh, stop crying, for goodness' sake. You're not fooling me," he growled, removing his hand and pressing his mouth violently against hers, so she couldn't even cry out beneath the torturous assault in her lips.

With his second hand now free, he tugged and tore at her dress once more, until it was bunched up at her waist and he was touching her where only one other man had.

_Where is Darcy?_ she thought desperately as she struggled.

"Calm down, or you'll only make this worse for yourself!" Victor growled against her mouth. In the momentary refrain from his cruel kiss, if it could even be called that, she bit his mouth sharply. He swore, and then his hand came down on her cheek, and she could feel blood swell in her mouth. The hand that was grabbing at her painfully now moved up to dig his nails into her thigh, she cried out, and his momentary surprise to realise that her mouth was no longer covered allowed her a single, split second.

With one hand, he pressed over her face and pushed it into the side of the settee, her lungs instantly filling with musty air, and she felt his other hand remove from her side to go to his belt. This took most of his weight off her body, and in that single moment she was able to squirm out of his grip.

She fell on the cold floor, her head banging sharply against the side of the settee, but she didn't let it stop her. She scrambled to her feet as Victor swore and lunged for her, but before he could take hold of her again she had pulled herself up against the door, and fallen through. She ran as quickly as she could down the hall, not even knowing where she was going, but she knew that she had to get away from that _man_!

She screamed as loudly as she could when she felt a pair of arms grab her waist. She struggled violently against them, and fell once more to the floor, desperately clutching the remains of her dress as she breathed rapidly, tears streaming down her face.

"Eerin, what the hell is wrong with you?" Richard exclaimed when she tore out of his grip. She looked around desperately to see herself in the foyer, just outside of the drawing room. Richard moved to help her up, but she only scrambled away.

"Don't touch me!" she cried immediately, not even knowing why. She didn't want his hands anywhere near her, she didn't want to see another man ever again; she just wanted to lock herself away where they wouldn't find her.

Richard stopped suddenly, and backed away from her. People curiously stepped into the foyer, all eyes on her as she scrambled back, barely able to breathe, she was crying so hard. She was surprised to find her whole body shaking, making her task of holding her dress together almost impossible.

"Eerin?" she heard a familiar voice question, as Darcy quickly worked his way through his family members.

"Get away!" she cried out, the moment she saw his green eyes looking at her with concern.

"Eerin, it's just me, it's William," he said softly, kneeling down to reach for her.

"Darcy, don't touch her," Richard commanded immediately. Darcy turned back desperately to his cousin, confusion written all over his face. Richard was staring at her, his skin devoid of colour, his eyes of any humour.

"But – w – what's happened? What's wrong?" Darcy questioned desperately, stepping away from her obligingly.

"Darcy, call the police," Richard murmured quietly.

"What's going on?" Ana demanded, rushing out of the sitting room, Cyril close on her heels.

"Everyone, get out," Richard commanded, his gaze still never moving from Eerin.

"But –"

"I said get out, Darcy!" he growled to his cousin, taking one slow, careful step forwards. One or two people took a step back, but no one left. "Eerin, I'm going to come and sit down in front of you, alright?" he informed her, his voice low and calming. She trembled violently, and shook her head. "That's fine, then, I won't. Right now, I'm just taking off my coat, alright? I'm just taking it off, but that's all I'm going to do. And then I'm going to give it to you, so you can wear it. Is that okay?" he questioned gently, moving to remove his jacket. Her heart pounded angrily against her chest, she didn't want him to do that! She wanted him to keep all his clothes _on_!

"Richard, what the hell is going on?" Darcy begged, but his cousin only ignored him.

"There you go, Eerin. Now, you can put that on, and I won't touch you," he assured her softly, putting his coat on the floor, and sliding it over to her. With one trembling hand she managed to take it, and tug it over herself, and then shuffle further away from him, until she felt the cool marble of the banister behind her. "Now, is this alright?" he questioned gently, lowering himself to the floor to sit eyelevel with her. She nodded shakily. "Good. Now, Eerin, I want you to look at me, and I need you to listen to what I'm saying, okay?" he instructed.

She nodded, feeling herself shake a little less, but his blue eyes were not green, and they didn't penetrate her entire being.

"He's not going to touch you ever again, alright? Never again," he promised her. She nodded once again, and took a deep breath, this time actually feeling like she had air in her lungs. She sobbed slightly, and then, with one pathetic cry, collapsed forwards, burying her head in her hands.

"Richard, dear God, _tell me_ what's going on," Darcy demanded, his voice shaking with some sort of unknown emotion to Eerin's ears. Eerin looked up to see him staring down at her incredulously, his entire body shaking.

She cried out when she saw Victor appear in the foyer, his clothing and hair slightly rumpled, his expression blank. Richard moved, as if to hide his brother from her vision, and began assuring her in a low voice that he was safe, all the while without touching her.

It was like some sort of scene from a movie as she watched Darcy look from her to Victor and her again, his face draining of colour as he did so. Before she could even see what was happening, Darcy had stormed across the hallway and his fist collided sharply with Victor's jaw. He fell to the floor instantly, and those assembled around them cried out.

Darcy threw himself down at the ground and brought his fist against his cousin's nose in a violent explosion, again, and again, pinning the man to the floor as he struggled to free himself.

"Darcy! Get off him!" Matlock cried angrily.

"You _bastard_!" Darcy bellowed furiously as Cyril pulled at his arm, desperately trying to tug him off his father. But Darcy seemed almost possessed, and would not relent his attack.

"Darcy, stop!" Richard cried furiously, his voice cutting across the clamour of the room. Everyone was silent for a moment, and Eerin's sob echoed against the walls.

Darcy stopped, his entire body shaking, his eyes clenched together, letting out a gasp halfway between a sob and a growl. He let go of his cousin, and Victor spluttered, his entire face streaming with blood. Darcy turned to her, his eyes wide and desperate, blood covering his hands and shirt.

"Everyone, get out," Matlock ordered curtly. When no one moved, her cried louder still. "_Get out_!" he shouted, as his relatives scrambled away, leaving only himself, Darcy, Victor, Richard and Eerin. "Richard, you too," he commanded.

"What, and leave her for you to hush things up? Not a chance," he spat back, stepping away from Eerin. She instantly felt vulnerable, and held the coat tighter to her body. He pulled his mobile phone from his trouser pockets, and began to dial.

"If you're calling the police, don't even bother, boy," Matlock snapped, walking across the room to his bloodied son. "Call an ambulance. You don't need the authorities here to see what he's done to my child," he growled, sending a fiery glance to Darcy.

"Your _son_ has r – r –" he spluttered in return, before giving a choked sob and stumbling to his feet. Before Eerin really knew what was happening, he picked her up effortlessly, and began storming upstairs. Eerin cried loudly, wishing he would just let her go, she didn't want him to touch her; she just wanted them all to go away.

She found herself being placed carefully atop their bed, Darcy's cheeks wet with tears, his hands stained with Victor's blood. She shuffled away from him on the bed, as far away as she could get.

"Darcy, don't touch her," Richard growled to his cousin, stepping immediately into the room. Darcy looked at her helplessly, as if unsure of what to do or say.

"But –"

"That last thing she wants is to be touched by a man, Darcy, so get away from her," he commanded, trying to keep his voice calm, but his anger was still evident.

"I'm going to kill Victor. I am. He doesn't deserve to live," Darcy choked out desperately, moving to go to the door, but Richard stopped him.

"_No_, Darcy. From now on, in this room, he doesn't exist. _Eerin_ is the only thing that matters," he growled lowly, but Eerin wasn't listening anyway. She was curling up with Richard's coat, hiding her body from their gaze and trembling with tears. "I've called the police, and I've asked them to send an ambulance," he added quietly.

"He doesn't deserve to –"

"It's not for him. She needs to be checked out," Richard said calmly, before turning back to Eerin with a sad sigh. "Get her some clothes, Darcy," he murmured to his cousin, before slowly stepping towards the bed, and sitting on the end. "Eerin, I'm just going to sit here. I'm not going to move unless you ask me to, and I'm not going to touch you, alright?" he informed her, his calm voice soothing through her shivers.

She nodded, and gave another small sob.

"Now, Eerin, I'm going to ask you two questions, alright?" he said softly. She nodded once more, and sat up slightly, trying to focus on him through the haze of tears. "So, first of all, did he hurt you?" he questioned her gently. She nodded. "Alright, now where did he hurt you? Are you bleeding anywhere? Are you in pain?" he continued.

She shakily touched her cheek, her mouth clamped tightly.

"Darcy, get a cup or a bowl or something," Richard murmured to his cousin, who was staring at Eerin in desperation. He appeared a moment later with a cup from the bathroom, and Richard placed it before Eerin, very slowly. "If your mouth is bleeding, spit it out," he instructed her.

She took the cup, and by merely opening her mouth blood spilled out from her already bruised cheek and lips which had been slowly accumulating, and she began to cough violently. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and put the cup down on the bedside table.

"Good. Thank you, Eerin. Now, are you hurt somewhere else?' he requested. She nodded, and felt more tears spill from her eyes, but she didn't want to discuss the details of the physical pain Victor had caused her with his rough hands. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want. Is it serious?" he asked carefully. She shook her head. "Good. Alright, and that brings me to my second question, Eerin, and I know you probably won't want to answer it, but I need to ask you, alright?" he continued, his voice now very soft.

She sobbed slightly, knowing what he was going to ask, but wishing he didn't have to.

"Eerin, did he rape you?"

She shook her head, and she heard Darcy give a relieved, choked sort of sob.

"But did he touch you anywhere?" he asked gently. She nodded shakily. "Alright, Eerin. Thank you for telling me," he replied with a soft smile, before standing up from the bed, and slowly stepping away. "You can run her a bath, but don't touch her, and don't try to talk to about it," he murmured to his cousin. "I have to go sort out something," he added meaningfully, before leaving the room.

Darcy looked to Eerin helplessly, and then rose to his feet, trembling as he went to run her a bath in their en suite. He said nothing as he struggled to do the simple task of finding her a change of clothes, all the while with tears on his cheeks and blood on his hands. He seemed to notice after a few minutes, and immediately went to the bathroom, where she could hear him washing up. He changed his stained shirt and reappeared a few minutes later, once more looking helpless and utterly devastated.

"I – It's ready. Your bath," he managed to choke out, holding himself away from her as if he didn't trust himself. She nodded shakily. "D – Do you want me to help you?" he questioned nervously. She shook her head.

He didn't want him to touch her. That was the one refrain she was repeating through her head – he just couldn't touch her.

She stumbled into the bathroom, her body still trembling, to find their large oval shaped spa filled with thick white bubbles and milky water. She was grateful for him for doing that for her, because she certainly didn't want him to see her.

"I'll – uh, just..." Darcy murmured, leaving her a moment so she could get into the tub.

She undressed slowly and quietly in front of the mirror, bruises already turning red and purple. There was blood all over her hip where he had dug his nails into her skin, which was smeared by her dress and did not conceal the large bruises over her hips, ribs and breasts. She had scratches all over her and even more bruises, and most of all she couldn't help but think that she was disgusting.

She slid into the bathwater, still trembling, by the time Darcy appeared. He looked to her with desperation, and then his gaze caught her dress, which was stained with flecks of blood.

That was his undoing. He collapsed against the sink and the contents of his stomach were immediately swirling down the drain. He sobbed and wept and vomited for a few minutes before he slid to the floor, running his hands through his dark hair and shaking. She knew he wanted to reach for her, she knew he wanted to hold her, but she didn't think she could do that. She just sat, staring at nothing and trying to think of anything but Victor's green eyes as he loomed above her, hands roughly grabbing at her body.

She sunk down in the bath, deeper and deeper until it occurred to her that she was beneath the water, before she felt herself being pulled up once more, not even sure how long she had spent under the surface. She took a deep breath when she broke the surface, the warm, steam-filled air filling her lungs, before she began to cry.

"He'll pay for this. He will, I swear," Darcy murmured, pulling away from her and sitting on the floor beside the tub, his eyes filled with tears. He leant forwards with a pained sigh.

"I want to go home," she whimpered quietly. "I want my mum. I want Jan, I want Maddy and I want my mum," she said shakily, feeling herself tremble violently once more. That's all she wanted, to feel her mother's warm, comforting hugs, like she did when she was little. They had their differences, of course, but nothing could replace one's mother.

"We'll go back to Sydney soon," he reminded her softly. She nodded, and sniffled, knowing that they couldn't get back to Australia any quicker, but that it didn't matter, because suddenly, in that moment, she couldn't see anything but hell. "Do you want to get out?" he asked, when she did not reply. She nodded once more, and accepted the large fluffy towel he offered her. He turned away as she got herself out and dried herself, not looking at her until she was dressed in a pair of comfortable grey harem sleeping pants and some old band shirt, which only made her look small and weak and vulnerable.

She felt better, to be warm and clean and dry, but there was a sick feeling in her stomach that seemed to have taken up permanent residence. She walked silently through to their bedroom, her head lowered, her face pale. They found Richard perched on the sofa with a kind looking police woman, wizened slightly by the grim reality of her job.

"Hullo, Eerin," the woman greeted with kind softness.

"Is he gone? Have you arrested him?" Darcy demanded instantly. Richard shot his cousin a disapproving glare.

"Mister Fitzwilliam is on his way to the hospital, sir. They just want to check him, to make sure he sustained no _serious_ injuries," she said with slight coolness, before turning back to Eerin. "Now, Eerin, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?" she asked Eerin politely.

Eerin didn't answer, instead crawling down to sit atop her and Darcy's bed, her head lowered.

"Is there anyone you would like us to call for you? Is there anyone you want to talk to?" she offered gently. Eerin nodded.

"M – My sister. I want to talk to Jan," she murmured quietly.

"Would you be able to contact her sister, please, sir?" the police officer requested Darcy, before she moved to sit at the end of the bed. "Now, Eerin, my name is Sergeant Keenan, but you can call me Jill. Is that alright?" she said with a soft smile. Eerin nodded.

"Darcy. Come on, let's go outside," Richard murmured, tugging his cousin out of the room.

Darcy was silent for a minute when the door closed.

"He didn't rape her. There's something to be thankful for, at least," Richard said simply.

"What, I'm to be thankful that my own cousin only manhandled and did god-knows what else to my girlfriend?" he demanded bitterly, running a hand through his dark hair with anxious energy.

"It could have been worse. It could have been a _lot_ worse, Darcy," Richard retorted instantly. "Melissa, Cyril and Lucinda went home, but Matlock is still here. He wants to speak with you, but I wouldn't recommend you talk to him," he murmured tiredly, beginning to slowly pace.

"How did you know? Before she even said anything?" Darcy begged weakly. Richard shrugged.

"She didn't want me to touch her. Her dress was ripped, her face was all cut and bruised, it seemed obvious," he answered tiredly. "But I've spent years helping patch up Victor's mistakes, I know how to treat a woman he's abused," he sighed, leaning against the wall. "Anyway, you need to call her sister, let her speak to Eerin for a little. Then she can give her statement, and we can leave it for the police to deal with," he instructed.

Darcy nodded, his mind ticking away like a machine. He didn't know what he was going to say or do, he wanted to hold Eerin and forget everything about the Fitzwilliams, but there were things that needed to be done first.

"_Hullo_?" he heard a voice greet him on the other line, after he had pulled his phone out to call Jan.

"It's Darcy, Chase. Where's Jannali?" he questioned anxiously.

"_Oh, how's life in London then? Jan's just in the shower, she'll be out in a second,_" Chase replied cheerfully.

"Eerin needs to speak with her as soon as possible. Something's happened, she needs to talk to her sister," Darcy babbled immediately.

"_What's happened? Is everyone alright?_" Chase questioned with concern.

"Sort of. I... I just need to get Jannali to talk to Eerin," he murmured, not sure that he felt up to explaining anything.

"_Well, uh, she's getting out now, I guess I'll just give her the phone,"_ Chase decided, and Darcy could hear the frown in his voice. After a short pause and a slight shuffling noise, Jan was greeting him cheerfully.

"I'm fine, thank you," Darcy replied immediately. "Listen, Eerin needs to speak with you. Don't ask her what's happened or what's going on, she just... she just needs to talk to someone right now," he said quickly.

"_What do you mean? Is she alright?_" Jan questioned quickly.

"She's – she was –" he stopped himself with a frustrated sigh. "Jannali, I can't explain. Please, just speak to her," he begged.

"_Of course. Put her on_," she replied immediately, her voice filled with determination.

Darcy knocked gently on the door, and waited to be permitted entry. He stepped in slowly, to see Eerin curled up on the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest, and the police officer with a notebook in her hand.

"It's your sister. She wants to talk to you," he informed Eerin, passing the phone to her and desperately trying to meet her eye. She didn't so much as glance at him before she answered the mobile, and he could do nothing more than excuse himself without another word.

Darcy tried not to cry as he stepped out into the hallway, covering his mouth with his hand and clenching his fist as he fought the physical manifestations of the quick change of events and their toll on him. Richard clapped him on the back, grimacing at the reality of the situation.

"This is all my fault. I shouldn't have left her alone, I should have –" Darcy began, his voice strained and shaking.

"You can't have known what was going to happen. You had no reason to be worried," Richard insisted firmly.

"No, but I seem to be developing an awful habit of having the women close to me almost raped," he snapped pointedly, before shaking his head and clenching his fist. "I _will_ kill Victor for this. For the rest of his life he's going to pay for what he's done to her," he insisted with incredibly sincerity.

Richard sighed, and shook his head sadly.

"She doesn't need a hero. We need to go speak to Matlock – he needs to know that this isn't going to be covered up," he declared. Darcy bitterly agreed, and followed his cousin down the hall, the stairs and into the drawing room.

"Ana, go to bed," Darcy commanded his little sister when he found her pacing the room nervously, her face tear stricken. She looked to Matlock, who was seated in an armchair by the window with an obvious frown on his face.

"Did he rape her?" she demanded immediately. Darcy sighed.

"Go to bed. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"_Tell me_!" she cried angrily. He looked to her sister sadly, to see her shaking with emotion and disbelief. Sometimes he forgot everything she had been through, because she didn't let him think about it. But she knew.

"No. He didn't," he replied softly. She gave a deep sigh of relief, and Matlock grunted.

"Did he..."

"We don't know everything yet," Richard answered his young cousin.

"Can I speak to her? Where is she? Is she alright?" Ana questioned desperately, her green eyes filling with tears.

"You won't be talking to that _girl_ again, Ana," Matlock commanded curtly.

Darcy found himself shaking with anger before his uncle had even finished speaking.

"Get out of my house."

"What?" Matlock exclaimed, looking genuinely surprised.

"Get _out_ of my house," Darcy repeated through gritted teeth. Matlock scoffed, but did not move.

"I'm all too familiar with your 'hero' act, boy. It's growing old," he drawled almost boredly. "Leave this business to me. Get rid of your police officers and this will all be sorted, and no one will have to know of your violent actions against my son," he commanded, his voice calm but deadly serious, cutting across the thick tension in the drawing room.

"Ana, go to bed," Richard ordered quietly. Without needing further instruction, Ana left the room with haste. "Father. Victor went too far this time. He's not going to walk away from this, he has to pay for what he did," he announced to Matlock, stepping beside Darcy. The statement was silent, but all that was necessary; a united front against the older man, who merely rolled his eyes.

"It's simply a question of give and take, Richard," Matlock snapped to his son. "Now, I doubt anyone here wants the world to know of the Australian slut who threw herself at every member of this family she could, before deciding to pin some assault on my boy," he began, rising from his chair with the air of one telling a story. Darcy continued to visibly shake. "Your reputation, Darcy, will be ruined, and you will be disowned from this family. That's the risk you take – and you'll lose any benefits you might have been able to reap from this family," he continued informatively.

"I hereby renounce any affiliation I have with you. There _is_ no relation between the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams, you will return my mother's belongings to me and then we are _through_," Darcy growled with incredible control over his emotions. Matlock smirked.

"You wouldn't disgrace your mother's memory," he drawled confidently.

"My mother was a _Darcy_!" he cried loudly, with a sudden burst of anger that reverberated around the room. "And _I _am a Darcy, through and through – so you will never again lay any claim on me!" he roared violently. For the first time, Matlock actually looked _afraid_. "So you will never be welcome in this house or in Pemberley ever again, I will tell my sons and daughters that they have no uncle – and the Fitzwilliam name will be _dead_ to us!" he finished with such a startling combination of venom and ferocity that Matlock stepped back, as if wounded.

"And, father, he's not the only one. I'll disown _myself_, this time, I think," Richard interjected coolly. Matlock spluttered.

"What kind of son would turn his back on his own _father_?" he demanded incredulously. Richard shrugged.

"One with a conscious, I think," he replied, before walking purposely through the foyer, and holding the front door wide open. "Time to go, Matlock," he drawled.

"I have _never_ been treated this way in my entire life!" he spluttered angrily, storming from the drawing room, not stopping til he reached the front door. "Your mother would be _ashamed_ of you, boy!" he warned Darcy vehemently.

"Actually, I think this would be the first thing I've done in eighteen years that she would be proud of," he answered curtly. "I'll see your son in court," he spat, before Matlock growled, and gripped the door, slamming it behind him.

Darcy did not move for speak for a moment after he had gone. He stared at the door, his heart racing a thousand miles an hour.

"So. Want to adopt me?" Richard drawled to his cousin. Darcy gave a bitter laugh.

"I doubt he'll ever give me back mother's jewellery," he muttered, a little sadly. He would have liked to have given Eerin the set.

"It's in a vault in Zurich. He never intended on giving it to you – I'll fly over and pick it up next week. I know the password," Richard sighed, running a hand through his blondish hair. "Come on then, we'll see how Eerin is doing," he decided, heading towards the stairs. He turned when he realised that Darcy wasn't following him. "Coming?"

Darcy sighed, and nodded. Richard flashed him a sympathetic grimace.

"Come on, then. She'll need you."

Darcy only hoped that his cousin was right.

**A/N: So, like I said, a somewhat sensitive issue. I don't want flames for this one, people. And I did warn you there would be angst, so... yes. Well, this is the descent into chaos from now on. There will be a few happy moments here and there, don't worry, but for the next few chapters there is trouble on the horizon. **


	36. Of Airports and Advice

"_So come along, it won't be long til we return happy,_

_Shut your eyes, there are no lies in this world we called sleep_

_Let's desert this day of hurt, tomorrow we'll be free,_

_Let's not fight, I'm tired can we just sleep tonight?_"

-Sia, 'Soon We'll Be Found'

Eerin and Darcy flew back to Sydney airport on the same early morning as planned, with only Ana and Richard to wish them goodbye.

There was suddenly very little left for them in London – no charge could be fixed to Victor because of a lack of evidence to prove he had sexually assaulted Eerin. It didn't matter that she told the truth and that she bore the marks of his violence, it didn't matter about the statements of Richard and Darcy, because the Fitzwilliams apparently stuck together, and they were all insisting that Victor hadn't touched her. She had to endure harrowing questions and medical examinations for nothing, and, as if it were some sort of _favour_ to him, Victor dropped the charges of any assault from Darcy. They could have pursued the allegations against Victor, but that would mean remaining in England for a trial and for Eerin to testify, which was the last thing she wanted.

"She just wants to forget it happened," Ana had informed her brother the next morning, after she had spent the night with Eerin, only this time, without building a fort. "And I don't think standing in front of a jury is going to help anything. And besides, she doesn't want the press to get involved, and you know they will if we go down that road," she continued to a very discouraged Darcy.

So, they packed up their belongings and climbed onto a private plane without looking back. Somehow, his family had managed to ruin everything Darcy thought he had in England – not to mention the hope he had for the near future with Eerin.

She had barely said a word to him since that night. She had barely looked at him, and she hadn't let him touch her at all. He could understand, it must be difficult for her – he was a man, and she probably couldn't stand the sight of him. But he needed her just as much as she was certain she needed him, if she could admit it.

"Looking forward to hearing an Australian accent again?" he questioned his lover with a soft, encouraging smile after the plane had successfully taken off, and they were already nearing the channel.

"Mm," she murmured quietly, with a small nod, her head leaning against the small window overlooking the little green shapes and splodges that was England.

"I think, when we get back, we need a large bottle of wine and another one of your five-hour meals, hmm?" he suggested almost playfully, seating himself on the comfortable cushioned corner booth where she had perched herself in the luxurious cabin.

"Yeah," she muttered, biting her lip slightly and lowering her dark eyes.

"It's a shame we didn't get to go up to Pemberley. It's lovely in the summer," he commented, desperately trying to reach her eyes.

Eerin didn't answer. She folded her legs beneath her body and sunk deeper into the cushioned seats, as if she could simply fade away. He wanted to cry out in frustration, but he knew that would only make things worse. He just had to reach for her, to hold her, to let her know that he loved her.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her softly, reaching for her hand across the table. She flinched slightly, but didn't pull her grip away.

"Nothing," she murmured. He sighed.

"Eerin, please, love. Talk to me," he begged her almost desperately. She looked up to him, meeting his eyes for the first time. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but for a moment, no words came forth.

"Are you angry with me?" she managed to get out finally. His frowned in slight confusion.

"What for? You haven't done anything wrong," he insisted immediately.

"It's your mother's family, and I ruined your relationship with them," she shrugged, lowering her dark eyes. She sniffled slightly, but did not cry. Darcy didn't respond for a moment, because he couldn't believe what she was saying. "I know it's important to you, and I know you wanted to get her jewellery back. And our first proper holiday together was a bit of a disaster," she murmured with a pained grimace.

"Eerin, don't you _dare_ blame yourself for any of this!" he exclaimed when he could find words, now reaching quickly for both her hands and clasping them in his. "You've done nothing wrong, it was my disgusting, selfish cousin that ruined this," he insisted, pulling her hands up to his mouth and pressing his lips to her knuckles. "I'm glad that we never have to speak to them again, I wouldn't have wanted to," he murmured honestly.

She sniffled, and nodded. Darcy let go of her hands, and bit against her lip, fighting the onset of tears.

"If anything, _I'm_ sorry. I should never have put you through all this, I know what kind of man my cousin is and I still didn't..." Darcy sighed wearily, resting his head in his hands. "I've failed you. This is the second time I couldn't stop someone I love being almost raped," he murmured quietly.

"Darcy. This had nothing to do with you," she insisted, with more conviction in her than he had seen all together those past two days.

He wanted to object, primarily because for the first time in months she hadn't called him William, but also because it had _everything_ to do with him. He was the one who had brought her to England and threw her into the company of his family, he should have _known_ that his efforts would be fruitless, and yet he persisted, as if he had something to prove. And _Eerin_ had suffered from it.

But there was something about the firmness of her tone, her insistence and conviction that made any response unnecessary. She didn't blame him, that much was evident, but she also didn't want him to blame himself.

"Listen, what happened has already happened, and we can't do anything about it. It's done, it's over, it's in the past," Eerin sighed, running a hand through her short hair. "Lets just try to remember the good things about this trip, alright? 'Think of the past only as it gives you pleasure'. I think that's how Jan does it and keeps so cheerful – so let's just focus on the good stuff," she insisted.

"But – Eerin, you can't just forget what happened," he murmured in slightly desperate response. She nodded.

"Do I need closure for this? No. You beating him up was closure – and there's nothing left for me to stew over," she continued. She looked like she was returning to her old self, but Darcy couldn't help but be concerned. "Listen, you said you don't blame me, and I believe you. But I don't want to think about this anymore," she practically whispered. The sincerity in her dark eyes was all Darcy needed, and he simply nodded.

"All right," he murmured.

The flight was a long one, and by the time they were somewhere over South East Asia Darcy had discovered that she no longer recoiled from his touch, and they were able to lie comfortably on the cabin bed with his arm loosely wrapped around her waist without her bursting into tears.

He wasn't satisfied that it was the last they would hear of the issue, but he realised that Eerin needed him to let the dead lie and not bring it up again. All she had really needed from him was to know that he didn't blame her, and now that she did, it appeared to Darcy that it was going to be one of the many issues that they simply didn't discuss from that point on.

By the time they had landed their relationship was definitely in a much better condition than it had been when they left London, but both knew that things weren't the same, and it would take a long time for things to return to the way they had been, if they even could.

"I think I need a very large drink," Darcy commented with a sigh as their luggage finally rolled around the conveyer belt, and he pulled off Eerin's Louis Vuitton suitcase, placing it on their trolley and giving Eerin a small, comforting smile. "It's going to be alright. We're home, now," he said softly.

"Yeah. Home," she murmured, before pulling on her sunglasses. With her little pink beanie she looked almost unrecognisable, which was her aim. They were back in Sydney now, and they couldn't take any chances. "I can carry my own stuff, you know," she commented, pointing to her suitcase.

"I like being masculine," he defended with a small laugh. She rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse, swinging it around her shoulder.

"Compensate," she replied, poking her tongue out teasingly. He couldn't help but chuckle, particularly when his amusement earned him a smile from his lover. "Alright, so we get a taxi?" she questioned, turning to him with a raised brow.

"Actually, Chase is picking us up, and I'm glad I called – because we'd never get a cab in this crowd," he commented, glancing around the crowded terminal, filled with people coming back from their holidays where they had escaped the cold Australian winter.

"Do you know what time he'll be here?"

"Soon, but we got out a little earlier than I expected, so we might have to wait five minutes," he answered, pulling out his passport and boarding pass. They made their way through the gates and security with ease, and Darcy led them over to the few remaining chairs where they could wait for Chase to pick them up. "Do you want to sit down?" he offered.

"I'm just going to go to the loo, I'll be back in a minute," she replied, ducking through the crowds to find the bathrooms.

Darcy gave a tired sigh and took a seat. He didn't really like flying, and the trip from London to Sydney was very, very long. He was looking forward to heading back to his flat, having a decent meal and a bottle of wine with Eerin, and falling asleep as soon as possible.

"Darcy! Yoo-hoo, it's me!"

Darcy opened his eyes and winced as a vision of Carol Bingley in a tight peach bodysuit appeared before him, a giant smile on her botoxed face.

"Carol? What are you doing here?" he questioned incredulously. She plonked herself beside him on the chair, and leant towards him, probably in what she thought was a seductive gesture.

"Well, Chase said you needed a lift from the airport, and I offered to pick you up! They had an appointment for the baby – Jan's getting fat now, you know, _very_ fat, and I said I'd do the leg work, and we can all meet at your flat to hear all about England!" she said excitedly, as Darcy's stomach sank.

"Well, uh, that's very kind, but I'm quite tired, so I don't think entertaining is the foremost thing on my mind," he murmured, glancing desperately across the airport to see if he could spy Eerin. "Carol, I thought you went back to England," he said suddenly, turning back to her with a slight frown. She waved him off.

"Oh, nonsense. I want to see this little nephew of mine! I have to get the monopoly on the name!" she insisted gleefully.

Darcy wanted to cringe at any name Carol Bingley would choose for an infant, but he hid his disgust.

"Ooh, what a _lovely_ suitcase, I have one just like it," she commented loudly, spying the Louis Vuitton luggage on his trolley. "A bit feminine for you, though?" she accused with a slight giggle, and the tiniest bit of suspicion.

"It's –"

"Oh, _I_ know, it must be Ana's!" Carol exclaimed, slapping her forehead immediately. "So did she come back with you, or is she just leaving some things at your place for her next trip over?" she questioned curiously, leaning closer to him and twirling her hair around one pale finger.

"I – uh, she'll be coming over in a few months," he murmured, glad that she had handed him an excuse, and he didn't have to lie to her. Even though it was only Carol, he hated lying.

"Oh, I can't wait! Now come on, let's go, we don't want to catch the traffic," she beamed, jumping up to her feet. Darcy glanced around the airport fleetingly.

"Uh, do you mind if I just make a quick call?" he questioned airily. She rolled her eyes.

"Alright then, but be quick, I'll go bring the car up to the front," she decided, winking and stalking away.

Darcy released a sigh of relief the moment she was gone, and pulled out his iPhone, immediately dialling Eerin's number.

"_Miss me already_?" she questioned laughingly when she picked up a moment later. "_I'm still waiting in line, there's fifty million people in here_," she informed him, her voice echoing from the tiled walls of the bathroom.

"Listen, Carol just turned up, she wants to give me a lift back to the flat," he replied immediately.

"_Oh. Well, that complicates things_," she said slowly.

"Do you have somewhere you could go for a few hours until I get rid of her? What about Maggie's place?" he suggested quickly, unwilling to be caught talking to Eerin by Carol.

"_Nah, she's back in Germany for the holiday. I can stop over at Hamish's place first, but I think I'll just go home_," she replied simply.

"Oh. Ah – I suppose... that would work," Darcy muttered, wishing he could respond very animatedly that it would _not_ work, and that he didn't want to share her with anyone, let alone her parents.

"_I'll catch the train back, I've got my purse and everything, so I'll probably just stay there til class starts again_," she replied simply.

"That's not for two weeks, Eerin!" he objected.

"_I'll get there when I can, but my parents haven't seen me for ages, Will, they might want to make sure I'm alive,_" she drawled. He bit back a scoff.

"Alright, but... come back before classes start, I beg you," he sighed finally.

"_Course. Alright, I'm not talking to you on the phone while I pee, so I'll call you later tonight_," she said, before giving a brief goodbye and hanging up.

Darcy frowned at his phone as he made his way out of the airport terminal.

It did make _sense_, after all, that she would spend a little time with her parents, but... he wanted her with _him_, not an hour away with her family.

He managed to fake a smile that looked more like a grimace as Carol pulled her car up in front of him, with a broad, slightly intimidating grin on her collagen filled lips. The drive back to his flat was about fifty times more painful than the twenty-two hour flight he had just experienced, and felt at least twice as long.

He was stewing over Eerin. His sense of logic would state that it was actually a good idea for her to spend a few days at home where she could relax and come to terms with everything that had happened, but his sense of logic wasn't dominating his brain at that point, and he couldn't help but think that space, at that time, was the last thing they needed. They needed to cling together and support each other; separation would only take everything out of perspective.

After the longest car trip of his life, they arrived at Darcy's flat, and he excused himself briefly to unpack a few of his essentials. The moment he was alone in his bedroom he pulled out his phone and dialled Chase.

"_Please don't kill me_," was the immediate response Darcy heard from the other line.

"You bastard. You complete and utter bastard," he growled angrily.

"_I'm sorry! There was nothing I could do to stop her – did she see Eerin?"_ he questioned anxiously.

"No, she didn't, thank God," Darcy grumbled. "But because of her, Eerin's going back to her parents. This isn't what we need right now," he added sharply.

"_Jan told me. I mean, Rin didn't say much to her, but she told me enough. Is she alright?_" Chase asked, concern obvious in his voice.

"I don't know. I think so, but she's almost ignoring it ever happened now," he sighed.

"_Jan said she would do that. She just pretends the bad things don't happen and they all come out at the worst times,_" he explained. Darcy cursed slightly beneath his breath.

"Damn. Well, all I can do is try to talk to her about it," he said bitterly.

"_Do you want Jan and I to come over? I think she'd like to see you, and at least you wouldn't be alone with my sister,_" Chase offered.

"That would probably be for the best. I'll see you soon then," he finished, before hanging up.

Darcy braced himself before leaving his bedroom. It was going to be a tough night.

* * *

Carol wasn't stupid.

No, she wasn't stupid at all, so she certainly wasn't fooled by Darcy when he claimed that the suitcase she'd spied belonged to his sister.

She hadn't even _known_ that he had gone back to England until a week after their departure, when Jan and Chase arrived back from their very lengthy and lazy two month honeymoon, and she had suggested they all go out for dinner.

At first she was thrilled. It hadn't occurred to her that he had brought Eerin with him until that morning, when she spied the suitcase. She had known that he was screwing the girl, but she didn't think that they were so serious as to go on a _holiday_ together so she could meet his family!

She had despaired only for a moment. She still had the photos from the wedding, and all she needed was a little more evidence before she made her move to be rid of that blasted Eerin Beaumont for good.

"Carol? What do you think?"

She glanced up, snapping from her musings to realise that her brother had asked her a question. She glanced around the living room of Darcy's luxurious flat where Darcy, Chase and Jan all sat comfortably, chatting away.

"Uhh... yes?" she replied with a nervous laugh. Chase rolled his eyes.

"I knew she wasn't listening. I don't think she deserves to vote," he sniggered, placing an arm over his wife's shoulders. Jan was looking radiant. She was now seven months pregnant and was carrying as elegantly as a woman could, and motherhood was doing wonderful things for her skin.

"Ooh, is this about the name?" she demanded instantly, sitting up.

"Noah or Jack?" Chase offered. She pouted.

"So you haven't considered any of my suggestions."

Chase scoffed.

"I am _not_ naming my son 'Charmont', Carol, so you can forget it," he insisted. She sighed dramatically.

"Fine then. Noah," she snapped finally.

"Well then, Darcy, it comes down to you," Chase declared, turning to his friend with a grin.

"Well, no, it doesn't, actually, because if I picked Jack it would still be a tie," he replied simply.

"We still haven't asked Rin, though!" Jan insisted. "She gave us both those suggestions, anyway, so we have to consider what she thinks," she said firmly.

"Noah. Noah Jack Bingley," Darcy interjected with a nod.

"Et tu, brute?" Chase exclaimed, glaring at his friend. Darcy shrugged.

"Either of them would work, but I think you have to wait to see if your son looks like a Jack or a Noah," he said simply. Chase scoffed bitterly, as if wounded.

"Mind if I borrow your ladies room for a moment, Darcy?" Carol purred suddenly. He nodded, barely even registering her question as Chase began a lengthy tirade of reasons why his son should be called Jack.

She didn't know what she was looking for, but Carol knew she was going to find _something_. She poked her head into various rooms until she found the bedroom, and slipped in through the open door.

She looked around with a slight frown. It was rather masculine, but had a few editions that lightened the mood, such as some candles and pictures that had a distinct feminine touch. She pulled open one of the doors to the large wardrobe and smirked. It was full of women's clothing, some pieces she recognised Eerin having worn once or twice before, but that wasn't substantial evidence. She needed romantic photos or a sex tape somewhere – only Darcy didn't seem to be the kind to make a sex tape...

She stepped over to the bed, where Darcy had put the luggage, and one of the bags was open with a few things spilling out. She peered through what must have been Darcy's carry on luggage bag with a slight frown, searching for something, anything to help her case.

Her eyes widened when she spotted something.

A little Moleskine journal that had fallen open slightly. She picked it up with shaking fingers, and found herself on the first page of some sort of sketch book.

Eerin, by the pool.

Eerin, by the pool.

Eerin, in the pool.

Eerin, in a party dress.

Eerin, sitting at a desk in a classroom.

She flicked through pages with haste, her heart racing as she realised the value of her find. Not only were there sketches of her in the classroom, but there were also hundreds of drawings of her sleeping in their bed, or doing other, far more amorous activities with a certain gentleman. And then from that journal fell a collection of photos from their holiday, and some love letters with ambiguous addresses. But still, it was clear.

It was blackmail gold.

She slipped the journal into her purse with a small smirk.

The ball was in her court.

* * *

"I'm surprised you even remembered your dear old parents," Warrain drawled with a small smirk about half an hour after Eerin had arrived home, tired, but full of answers to the excited questions of her sisters.

"I called every few days, daddy," she reminded her father as she collapsed on the settee, Leena and Kylie tugging impetuously at her cardigan.

"Where the hell are our presents? You _said_ you bought us presents!" Leena wailed.

"They're at Jan's place, I told you! I didn't want to take my suitcase back on the train, she'll bring it back when she comes over for tea tomorrow night!" she insisted, fighting a yawn, and snuggling comfortably in the sofa.

"Rin, did you get me something nice?" Kylie demanded with a pout, climbing on the sofa beside her sister, squeezing her small frame tightly.

"Ah! Kylie, you're crushing me!" she wailed, trying to fight laughter as Leena immediately jumped on her feet and started to tickle her.

"Tell us what you got!" she cried loudly. Eerin squirmed and wriggled futilely.

"I – ah! Stop, stop and I'll tell you!" she laughed loudly. Leena smirked, and gave a momentary respite. "I got Maiya some Doc Martens and you both slutty clubbing heels, alright, but you owe me _so_ much money for them!" she announced finally, which resulted in excited squeals from her two youngest siblings.

"What colour are they?" Kylie squealed eagerly.

"Yours are black with sequins, and yours, Leena, are fuchsia with studs," she answered, gasping for breath with the weight of her two sisters pretty much sitting on her.

"Ooh, they sound hot!" Leena said excitedly, jumping off her sister and bouncing up and down with impatience. Warrain looked doubtfully at his daughter.

"They're just _shoes_," he drawled with slight disgust. Leena scoffed, and flipped her hair back.

"But they're from _England_. I'll be like Alexa Chung," she retorted, placing one hand on her hip and looked to her father as if he had grown a second head.

"Ooh, I want to be Peaches Geldolph. Or maybe Agyness Deyn," Kylie said thoughtfully. Warrain looked helplessly to Eerin.

"When did my daughters stop speaking English?" he sighed miserably.

"I don't think they ever started, Dad," she replied with a shrug, sitting up and running a hand through her short hair. "I'm buggered. Time differences kill me. I think I'll have a nap before tea," she announced with a long yawn, getting up and stumbling out of the living room.

She said a quick hello to Maiya, who was in no mood for conversation, and then collapsed on her bed when she finally reached her room.

She rolled over on her back, and looked around her bedroom with suddenly fresh, foreign eyes. The walls were done in a faded floral wallpaper, but every single surface was covered with a different sized picture frame with stills from her favourite movies, pictures of her favourite bands, old paintings, fashion shoots, beautiful people, images cut out of _Frankie_ and _Yen_ and _Rush_, and the crimson carpet was worn in some places, but inviting and warm.

She tried to imagine Darcy in that room. He would take in the faded wallpaper and worn carpet and her little single bed with lace curtains and fairy lights wrapped around the posts and probably toss everything out, filling it with new, shiny, pretty things that cost a fortune. It was a start contrast to the life she had been living for those past two months, a big, glamorous house with expensive clothing and dinner parties every night.

She had been lying to herself, if she wanted to admit it. She wasn't the kind of woman who hosted dinners and wore fancy dresses and directed the house keeper, she was just...

Eerin Kimba Beaumont, twenty years old, with her worn crimson carpet and eclectic floral wallpaper. Borrowed men's clothing, old Doc Martens, a never-going-to-make-it band and occasionally, when she felt like it, a bowler hat, just to make things whimsical. She liked Disney movies and flowers and stars and tea, not diamonds, or pearls or pleasing snobbish upper-class bastards.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself, softly, as the breeze fluttered in, blowing the lace curtains over the head of her bed aside, to reveal her father standing in the doorway, arms crossed against his chest.

"I was about to ask you that question," Warrain muttered with a slightly pained smile. She sighed, and crawled up into a small ball atop her bed as he crossed the room to sit down beside her, and pulled her head into his lap. He was familiar and comforting, what she had been missing all those months. She had missed her father terribly. He really was the light of her life.

"I don't think this is me anymore, Dad," she practically whispered, unexpectedly feeling tears moisten in her eyes as he smoothed her dark hair back.

"Only the real Eerin Beaumont is grounded enough to recognise when she's not herself. You're still you, even though it's a bit of a paradox," he smiled softly. "I think he loves you, if it's any consequence," he murmured quietly, after a short silence had passed.

"I know he does. I've never doubted that," she sniffled, wriggling closer to her father's familiar form, as if he alone could change everything horrible that had happened.

"Do you love him?" he asked, although he sounded a little strained, as if he didn't want to believe she could. She nodded.

"Yes. Very much."

"So, possum, what's he done?" he asked, his eyes crinkling slightly with a wry smile as he gazed down to her fondly.

"Nothing. He's been wonderful," she assured him firmly. "Daddy, I don't want any of this anymore. I don't want it," she said suddenly, tears stinging her eyes.

She was filled with an incredible sense of... _weight_. Awful, painful, stomach turning weight that was pulling her down and making her sick. She'd felt it before, when she'd done something very, very wrong, and she was filled with crushing guilt and fear from her actions, and all she could feel was the instinct to run far, far away.

"You don't have to have it."

"B – But I _love_ him! I just – I hate who he is! I hate _what _he is!" she cried out, feeling bile rise up in her throat to mix with the tears she was choking back. "I hate his bloody family and his house and his money, we had a week where it was just he and I and Ana in a little place in France, and it was perfect! Why can't it be just that?" she demanded desperately, wiping away her tears with shaking hands. She could hardly understand her own words for sobs, but she knew that her father understood. They always did.

"Eerin, it would be easy for me to tell you to forget about him, and pretend he never existed," he began softly, considering his words. "Now, I know something has happened. I'm your father. I know that someone hurt you, and that's made you question everything," he continued quietly, stroking back her dark hair with slightly trembling hands. "Now, you don't have to tell me," he assured her, when she made to speak. "But unless he did something wrong, something that made you doubt him, then I don't think you need to fret. He's crazy about you," he smiled teasingly. She gave a stifled little sob, and nodded.

"He didn't do anything wrong. He thinks he has, but he hasn't," she assured him weakly.

"Has he popped the question yet?" Warrain asked with a tender little smile. She looked up at him.

"You don't want him to," she stated quietly. He shrugged, and sighed.

"Of course I don't, but... well, I had to give you up eventually," he mused thoughtfully.

"No, he hasn't asked me yet. But it's sort of an agreed thing," she explained, wringing her hands together with sudden awkwardness.

"Good. Tell him, from me, that you're much too young yet, and he'd better wait for a good twenty years before I'm in the ground and he can finally marry you," he warned with a teasing chuckle. Eerin sighed, and nodded.

"He and I need to talk. And I think that's one of the things we have to talk about," she murmured.

"Well, bring him over for tea and he and I can argue over how many goats you're worth."

Eerin sent her father a withering glare that turned into a sort of laugh.

"I'd better be worth a cow and a few chickens, or else I'll file a formal protest," she giggled.

"Of course you are. One cow, a dozen chickens and a few goats. Maybe a pig if we can convince him you know how to do the dishes," he drawled teasingly. Eerin playfully smacked him in the arm.

"I'm worth all old bloody MacDonald's farm, I'll have you know," she objected. He gave her a fond smile.

"You're worth a lot more than that to me, love, and probably even more to him," he assured her, giving her hair one last ruffle and standing up. "Alright, I'm going down to the shed before your mother comes home with the Red Rooster and complains about me. See you at tea, possum," he said wryly, before slipping out to the hall.

Eerin glanced around her bedroom with a small sigh.

It was comforting that even though she no longer knew who she was, her father still recognised her.

**A/N: So, things are starting to heat up, and this chaos is descending. What is Carol up to? Hmm. I wonder. **

**So, my holiday is ending, and very soon I will begin University. I had a plot bunny that I was working on quite a lot recently, but I've found that I really should be focusing my attention on uni and getting this book I want to write finished. It's a regency forced marriage P&P fic, and I don't think I have it in me to write it, but I still like the idea I have for it. So if anyone wants it, please tell me and I can give you more information on it. **

**Julia: I must admit, I don't really understand your concerns that much. I think an eating disorder is relatable by most women, and that has nothing to do with culture. Well, it might. I don't know, because I don't know what it's like to go to an American school or an English school, and so my knowledge of other cultures comes generally from Scrubs and Harry Potter. But I think what you're asking is why it's such a big deal for Eerin. Well, she's young and she's sensitive, I suppose. And if you were nearly raped, how would you feel? I've been in shock before (but not for the same reasons as Eerin), and I know the way that everything can seem really surreal. I don't really find her reaction too over-the-top, but I could be wrong. I like to explore issues in my fics that people can relate to, and others that are less likely to be familiar to readers. Otherwise, the plot is too dull. And plus, I like angst. I think she's just insecure, and that's perfectly normal. I think Elizabeth Bennet was very insecure, and I've tried to channel that. Anyways, you get to see a bit more about her personality later on, so please, continue reading! :D**


	37. Of Ultimatums and Usurpation

"_Serve God, love me and men, this is not the end,_

_Live unbruised, we are friends, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry_

_Sigh no more, no more, one foot in sea and one on shore,_

_My heart was never pure, you know me,_"

-Mumford & Sons, 'Sigh No More'

Eerin didn't return to Sydney for almost a week after she got back from London. She had missed the dynamics of her own home, she had missed her sisters and she had missed her parents. Not to mention the house – she loved the city, but it was different, there were hardly any trees or grass, and she found that she had been missing nature.

By the time she returned, Darcy was frustrated to no end. He did, of course, understand that she needed time to process things, time to heal, time with her family; but where she needed space he needed the complete opposite – he wanted to lock the door to his flat and just remain for the rest of his days with no one but Eerin for company.

"Please, just... don't do this to me again," he sighed into her hair when she appeared one morning, and he had immediately pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Then _you_ come stay with _me_ for a change," she challenged, only half teasingly. He stroked back her hair instead of replying. "Come on then, I bet you haven't had a decent meal since London," she announced, releasing herself from his grip and chucking her carryall on the sofa.

"Have you seen my journal, by the way? Did I put it in your bag?" Darcy questioned, as she made her way to the kitchen.

"Nup. You didn't leave it in London?" she asked with a raised brow. He sighed.

"I think I must have. I've searched everywhere for it," he murmured, leaning against the bench as she rolled her eyes at the meagre contents of the fridge. "Before you growl at me, I _have_ been eating this week. Your sister has decided that I'm a bit of a lost cause and has been bringing all kinds of things over, usually soup and casseroles of the sort. She's going to be a _very_ good mother," he commented thoughtfully.

"I'm going to the shops, lazy," she announced, closing the fridge door and sending Darcy a disapproving look. He chuckled.

"I've been too busy, sitting around here pining for you to worry about food," he informed her, sliding his hands around her waist.

"Nice try. I'll be back soon," she smiled, giving him a quick peck on the lips, before sliding out of his grip.

He smiled as she went. It seemed that the Eerin he knew and loved was back.

They had a quiet meal at home and a bottle of wine, just the thing they had needed to recover from their recent ordeals. They had little over a week left before classes began again, and things would change once more.

"Have you thought about taking the advanced class?" he questioned her, quite seriously as they reclined back on the sofa, their bellies full of wine and food.

"Mm. I want to, but it would only complicate things," she sighed, her slender fingers trailing soft patterns across his chest.

"Well, it doesn't matter if you do the class or not, I'm still a teacher and you're still a student at the university, we can't shout it out to the rooftops," he reminded her gently. She hummed, and nodded.

"Would you mind if I did?" she asked, quietly. He chuckled, and stroked back her short dark hair.

"Of course not. You're very talented, but I think you could benefit with a bit more instruction," he assured her with gentle softness. She couldn't help but smile.

"Alright then. Good, because I really wanted to do it," she laughed, sliding her arm across his chest and sighing into his shirt. "Hmm, I missed the way you smell," she murmured quietly.

"I won't even bother with a list of things that I missed about you, because we'd be here for a while," he replied with a slight twinkle in his emerald eyes.

He looked at her for a moment.

Really _stared_ at her, with a far off expression.

She frowned slightly.

"You right?" she questioned with slight nervousness. He gave her a small smile.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," he apologised, depositing a small kiss on her forehead. "I got a call from Richard today. He went to Zurich," he informed her, almost casually.

"What's he doing in Switzerland?" she asked doubtfully. Darcy's smile grew.

"The Fitzwilliam family own a vault there. He went to get my mother's engagement set," he answered softly.

"Oh."

"So... I know you wanted a warning, and I thought I might as well give it to you now," he began, his tentative smile growing into an eager grin as Eerin's heart raced. "He won't be able to get it over here for a week. So I think that's ample time for you to think of an answer to the question you know I'm going to ask you," he added with quiet, radiating meaning.

"Oh. Well, alright," she whispered, biting her lip and feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. He chuckled, and placed another kiss on her forehead.

"So, think about it. I don't want you to make any decisions for my sake, just... think about it," he smiled against her skin.

Eerin stared at his neck for a moment, with a slight frown as if she were in deep thought. He watched her carefully to await any comments.

"Does this ever seem completely crazy to you?" she asked him, suddenly, with an almost desperate sense of displacement that for a moment he couldn't respond with a reflex 'no'. In that moment, he thought about her question.

"Yes, I suppose it does," he smiled, a little vaguely. "Eerin, aside from the fact that I completely adore you and that Ana completely adores you, there's no one else in the world that I can see myself sharing my life with," he said, with calm conviction. "I love what I do. I love my job. I love symbols and I love finding out the meanings of things; I think in part because I'm so dreadful at communication. And you love all of that just as much as I do. Apart from how I feel, I can't imagine not doing what I do without you," he insisted. She gave a weak smile.

"It seems..." Eerin began after a moment's silence, considering her words, which were slightly muffled against his shirt. "It seems very real now. Very soon," she practically whispered. Darcy slid down slightly to regard her with serious eyes.

"Too soon?" he questioned with a raised brow. There was no accusation in his tone, only curiosity. That was one of the things she loved about him, he let her move at her own speed along his side, and he understood.

"Maybe," she murmured, gently biting her lip, and lowering her dark eyes. "I mean, I know what I said before, but... things have changed now," she explained weakly, feeling awkward and stained and frustrated as she squirmed slightly by his side. He watched her wring her hands together and slid back on the sofa a little, to give her more room, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

There was a heavy silence between them for what seemed like the longest time. Finally, Eerin looked up, only to discover he was staring at her with eyes that held pain, sadness and agitation. She felt herself blushing in response.

"I know you said you don't want to talk about it, Eerin, but I think we have to," he murmured honestly a moment later. She shook her head firmly, and glared at his jumper to avoid meeting his eyes. "I know that it's hard. I know that he hurt you, but we _can't_ do this, we can't just pretend nothing happened," he begged her almost desperately, reaching for her hands.

"Well that's how I deal with problems, so get used to it," she snapped bitterly, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the sofa. He too slid up to a sitting position, and ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair.

"Well the problem is, my dear, that _I _do that too, and I know from personal experience that it never ends well," he objected with growing agitation. "So we _have_ to talk about what happened. You can't keep it bottled up inside, it'll only make things worse," he insisted firmly, turning to look at her. She sat perched on the edge of the sofa, her skin pale, her hands trembling slightly.

"Don't call my 'my dear'. Please, don't call me that ever again," she whispered quietly, biting down on her lip. Darcy looked to her in confusion.

"You've never objected to that before," he replied with a frown. She nodded, and glared with determination to the floor.

"He called me that. He called me 'my dear', and I don't want you to as well," she murmured, so quietly he almost didn't hear. She sighed, and leant forwards, resting her elbows on her knees and holding up her head with her hands. "It was really sudden, one moment I was listening to you arguing with Matlock in the hall, and then next we were in the conservatory and he was..." she gave a shaky intake of breath. "It was like I was watching it from the corner of the room. That happened to me before when I walked into that car, I was watching it happen, I didn't feel it til after," she murmured, her voice strained. "He ripped my dress and he touched me really... roughly. Like he owned me. He was going for the belt when I managed to get away," she sniffled quietly.

Darcy didn't respond. He just watched her, and wondered if perhaps he was putting her through unnecessary strain. It hurt him to hear about it, and it was obviously hurting her to explain it.

"I said your name, but you didn't hear it," she added quietly.

"I – I was in a whole other section of the house. I couldn't have," he murmured helplessly. She gave a bitter laugh.

"No, in my head. I said your name in my head. I know you never could have heard me, but I wished you had," she explained weakly, before shrugging. "I don't remember much of it anymore. It's almost like a dream now, but... his eyes. I'll never forget that," she sighed, sitting up and wiping her eyes. He hadn't even noticed that she was crying. "But I don't care anymore, it's over. We just have to move on," she said with firm conviction.

"Before this happened you were talking about how you wanted to have children with me one day, and we were discussing where we would live when we married," he stated blankly. "Now, all of a sudden, things seem 'too soon'. I'd say that you do care, Eerin, more than you're letting on."

"We've only been together for a few months, really."

"We wouldn't marry straight away, you know. An engagement doesn't mean a wedding has to follow immediately," he defended. Eerin gave a tired sigh.

"Just let me think about it. There's no rush. Give me the week and you'll have your answer," she assured him. He frowned slightly, but nodded. "Don't think about that. There's nothing that can be done now, it's over," she insisted, sensing his resounding frustration. He sighed, nodded, and leant back in the lounge.

"It's just... hard. To know that you were hurt and frightened, and that there's nothing I can do to make it better," he explained with a wry, slightly pained smile.

"You don't always have to," she assured him, shifting so she could rest her head in his lap. She stared up at him with a small smile as he cupped her face, and then leant forwards to press a light kiss to her lips.

"But I still want to," he murmured sheepishly. Eerin just rolled her eyes in response.

* * *

"So, being married then? Lots of fun?" Eerin questioned her elder sister as she stepped into the living room of Jan and Chase's new Glebe house, carrying two large cups of tea in one hand and a pack of Tim Tams in the other.

"Oh, you're a godsend! Chase thinks I'm going to get diabetes, he keeps stashing them," Jan exclaimed, eagerly reaching for the chocolate biscuits as Eerin sat down beside her on the beautiful coffee-coloured leather settee set. "Marriage is wonderful, I'm so happy," she sighed, after taking a large mouthful of the biscuit.

"Well, you're certainly looking well," Eerin laughed, sipping her tea and taking her own biscuit. Jan beamed and leant back in the sofa with a comfortable sigh, placing one hand atop her quickly expanding belly.

"He's getting bigger every day. I've forgotten what my toes look like," she commented with a laughing sort of smile. "Now, I know you said you're alright, but –" she began, before she was silenced by her sister's roll of the eyes.

"I'm fine. I was a mess before, but everything is fine now. It's all hunky-dory," she assured her firmly. Jan frowned with suspicion, but sipped her tea in silence. "So, picked the name then? Jack, or Noah?" she challenged excitedly.

"Oh, we haven't gotten any closer. Which do you prefer?" she requested hopefully. Eerin only laughed.

"Either one, I don't care. I still think Marco is a good idea, and if you have another kid you can call it Polo," she suggested, her eyes only half twinkling in humour. Jan giggled into her tea.

"Oh dear, it's going to be fun when you and Darcy are having kids," she laughed. Eerin shrugged.

"Nup, we've already picked names, 'George William' for a boy, and 'Miah Claire' for a girl," she answered proudly. Jan raised a brow.

"You two are thinking that far ahead?" she exclaimed with slight surprise. Eerin shrugged.

"Well, we've been together about as long as you and Chase were when you got married," she replied simply. Jan thoughtfully took another biscuit.

"So has he asked you then? To marry him?" she questioned with feigned airiness, but obvious curiosity.

"Apparently he did months ago, but I didn't realise then. He said he's going to ask me at about the end of this week, though, so I have to decide what my answer will be," she explained simply, swirling the biscuit round in her tea.

"Are you going to say yes? Then Chase and Darcy will be almost brothers!" she replied excitedly, her dark eyes lighting up. Eerin shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Things are upside down now," she sighed, thoughtfully sucking on her biscuit until it dissolved in her mouth. "I kind of... I know it's going to sound weird, but ever since... _England_," she began meaningfully, and Jan nodded in understanding, "I've kind of missed girls. Does that sound crazy?" she questioned warily. Jan shrugged.

"I don't think so. I mean, you were taken advantage of by a man, it... makes sense," she replied carefully. "Are you – are you falling out of love with him?" she questioned worriedly.

"No. Not at all, but things are all twisted and messed up now," she explained with slight frustration, running a hand through her dark hair. "I kind of want to take a break, maybe spend more time at home, but he's not the kind of bloke who takes breaks," she explained with a weak smile.

"Do you want to marry him?" Jan asked with a soft, knowing smile. Eerin gave a laughing sigh, and nodded.

"Yes. I do. But, you know, it just... it doesn't make sense, Jan," she insisted. "I mean, I'm only twenty, I don't have a steady job or anything, I still have another eighteen months of uni, I haven't worked out what I want to do or who I want to be, and in a few days my boyfriend slash teacher of about five or so months is going to ask me to marry him!" she exclaimed, with a small laugh, as if at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"So say yes," Jan shrugged with a sly twinkle in her dark eyes as she rubbed her stomach. "Since when have you cared about what makes sense? You keep saying 'I'm only twenty' like you haven't lived more than everyone you know combined. You traipsed around the planet on your own for months, Eerin. You're not fooling anyone," she teased, poking her sister with her bare foot.

"I'm supposed to be travelling and living off two-minute noodles and struggling to make up essays the night before so I can go get drunk down at _The Fiddler_ on Friday night," she drawled.

"Yeah, but you've done that already, and it's not like you actually enjoy getting drunk," Jan smiled. Eerin groaned.

"Jan, you're ruining all my reasons!" she whined.

"Good! Stop feeling sorry for yourself, go marry him, and give my son a cousin to play Cowboys and Indians with," she instructed playfully. Eerin sighed, and slid down on the sofa.

"I'm still... shaken up about everything that happened," she admitted weakly.

"That's why you need him, he loves you to death, Rinny-Ninny," Jan teased with a growing grin.

"But... I'll be an _engaged_ person. And then a _married_ person," she said, as if it were some sort of terrible disease.

"Good. Then you can be a _pregnant_ person, and you'll know how much this sucks," she replied, rubbing her belly. "He's kicking like mad. Want to feel?" she offered.

"Would you be offended if I said no, that's yucky?" Eerin questioned thoughtfully. Jan scoffed and grabbed her sister's hand, pressing it to her belly. Eerin squealed as she felt pressure from Jan's bump pressing lightly against her, and then in a short, sharp, very kick-like motion. "Isn't he hurting you?" she questioned incredulously. Jan shook her head.

"Nope, it's just annoying. I can't sleep while he does it, and I think he's going to be a footballer," she sighed, reaching for another biscuit, her third of fourth.

"That's so..."

"Beautiful? Touching? Natural?" Jan offered with a laugh.

"I was going to say weird, disgusting, and kind of creepy. But that works too," Eerin giggled in response, just as the doorbell rang.

"Oh, it must be Carol. She's always coming over," Jan sighed, with slight annoyance.

"Sit still, I'll get it," Eerin insisted, jumping up and heading through the hall to the front door, pulling it open to reveal Carol, her hair freshly died if the incredible vibrancy of her orange locks was any indication, sporting the latest from Balmain and Prada. "Hullo, Carol. Jan's in the living room," she greeted with no sincerity, pulling open the door wide.

Carol smirked, and pulled off her Armani sunglasses to reveal narrowed, accusing eyes.

"We have to have lunch, you and I," she commented, placing one hand on her hip. Eerin raised a brow.

"Must we? _Really?_ Because I think I'm good," she assured her, not even bothering to conceal her disgust at the proposition.

"Really. I know something you might be interested in hearing. _Very_ interested," she added meaningfully, sweeping past her and fixing a broad smile on her lips. "Jannali! I just popped by to tell you the good news. Louise might be coming down for the birth! Isn't that great? You'll have _both_ your sister-in-laws for support!" she announced eagerly as she stalked into the living room.

From the expression of fear and mild disgust on Jan's face, she obviously didn't agree with Carol's enthusiasm.

"Don't worry, she's got two little ones of her own, she'll be a _wonderful_ help. Just thought you might want to hear the good news yourself!" Carol continued dramatically. "Alright, now, Eerin, we _must_ have lunch. What's say we pop off now, and I can drop you home after? Wherever that is," she smiled menacingly, turning back to Eerin with cold, dangerous eyes.

Eerin felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Sure. Let's go, Carol," she muttered. Jan looked to her in surprise, but made no comment as Eerin grabbed her handbag and coat, following Carol out the door and down to her car. They didn't drive far, and it was in complete silence as they pulled up to a very fancy looking hotel, where Carol had obviously been staying.

Despite a few odd looks from her appearance (floral Doc Martens, black tights and large plaid overcoat over a band tee and denim shorts), they headed to the lift in complete silence. They soon found themselves in a glamorous suite, with a combined kitchen and dining area, as well as a living room and separate bedroom and bathroom. Eerin had once wondered where Carol had been kipping for all those months, and the room really did suit her. It screamed money, but not really taste.

"Take a seat, Eerin," Carol offered kindly, gesturing to the sofa. Eerin took off her coat and warily sat down on the nearest chair as Carol removed something from a small set of drawers by the television. She then seated herself dramatically on the chaise lounge, and tossed a manila folder on the coffee table.

"What's this?" Eerin questioned with a suspicious frown. Carol smirked.

"Why don't you take a look, and see what you think, Eerin?" she suggested calmly, but there was a menacing gleam in her eyes that was very off-putting.

Warily, Eerin reached for the folder, and opened it on her lap. What she found was a stack of papers, some photos, some photocopies out of a book and of what appeared to be letters. Eerin went through them with haste and disbelief, there were photos from Jan's wedding where she and Darcy were locked in clandestine embraces, a few of when he was pulling her into their hotel room, and even unbelievably, some of their holiday in France and England. One of them she even recognised was Darcy's iPhone display picture.

"How did you get these?" Eerin demanded angrily, looking up to the woman with fire in her dark eyes. She was trembling with rage.

"Darcy's family and mine are very close. I assume you've met Cyril?" she questioned lightly, with a serene, slightly twisted smile. "He emailed me some a few days ago, I think he got them off Georgiana. Not with her permission, of course, but he _is_ such a good boy. The rest I got myself, a little reconnaissance mission," she sighed happily. "Go on, there's more," she beamed.

And there was. She even had a copy of the police report that Eerin had filed against Victor for his attempted rape, with statements from Victor and Matlock. She didn't even bother to read them, because she already knew what they said. That she had thrown himself at Victor and then tried to frame him when he spurned her. Even the thought of that vile man sent her blood chilling in fear and anger.

"I guess I know where Darcy's journal went," she drawled, leafing through photocopies of his sketches and letters to her over the months. She tried to control her breathing, but it was almost impossible. She then found receipts from the purchases Darcy had made for her before Jan's wedding nestled in there.

"Oh, that was clever of me. Jan needed to collect everything, she wanted to work out how much the wedding had cost all up, and Darcy was kind enough to photocopy one for her to get an idea of how much your dress was," she drawled with a sly grin.

"You bitch. You absolute _bitch_," Eerin growled, closing the folder with a snap. "What do you want? Do you want money?" she demanded angrily. Her anger only increased as Carol's smirk grew.

"No. I want you to... oh, how do you dear Australians put it? Ah, yes, _bugger off_," she snapped, suddenly turning dark and menacing.

"You want me to leave him?" she demanded. Carol smirk.

"Well, clever you. At least we know you're not just an easy shag," she teased curtly. Eerin scoffed.

"You're really pathetic, you know? Get your own damn boyfriend, if you're that desperate for someone to care about you," she spat, standing up in a burst of angry energy.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Carol laughed as she made for the door. Eerin stopped.

"I love him, you stupid old cow! I don't care what you do to me, I _love_ him!" she cried furiously, glaring at her with all the fire and ice her body contained.

"Well, obviously not if you don't care enough to keep him safe," Carol retorted with a raised brow. Eerin scoffed.

"What on _earth_ are you trying to pull, Carol?" she demanded angrily.

"I can make you suffer from this, you know. I can destroy you – but whatever happens to you is _nothing_ compared to what will happen to him if this comes out," she replied coolly. Eerin glared at her, bit her tongue angrily, and sat back down, still trembling with anger.

"You wouldn't dare, you want him for yourself," she snapped. Carol shrugged with a laughing smirk.

"But if I can't have him, no one can," she replied airily, relaxing back on the lounge with a comfortable sigh. "He'll be ruined. You know how much it means to him to be a teacher; you know how much he loves his old books and funny pictures. He'll lose his job, his position, his respect, he'll be shamed into a life of isolation," she informed her almost... _gleefully_. "Everything he's passionate about will disappear. And it'll be _you_ that he blames, _you_ that he resents, and little by little he'll despise you," she smiled.

Unwillingly, those words struck home with the very comments he had made to her only yesterday. '_I love what I do. I love my job. I love symbols and I love finding out the meanings of things; I think in part because I'm so dreadful at communication._' How could she possibly take that love away from him?

"Unless?" Eerin demanded. Carol smirked.

"Good girl, you're getting the hang of this," she replied serenely. "_Unless_ you end it. End it all, tell him you never want to see him again, tell him it's all over between you," she commanded, her voice suddenly icy and serious. Eerin bit her tongue stubbornly to stop the tears.

"He'll never believe me."

"Then make him believe you don't love him. Cut him loose," Carol instructed coolly, sitting up and brushing a strand of hair back with cold impatience.

"And if I don't?" Eerin asked with shaky breath, trying to stop her heart from tearing a hole through her chest.

"Then I sell this all to the press, and his life is over. And Ana's, too. I happen to be one of the few people who knows about that little kidnapping incident a few years back with Wickham, and if you push me, the whole world will know," she shrugged. Eerin shook her head.

"I won't betray them!" she hissed angrily. Carol looked to her with disbelief, and then laughed.

"Oh, do you think I _care_? Honestly, I'd much rather do away with you completely like his dear uncle wanted, but it'll be _so_ much easier to do this if he thinks you hate him," she sighed dramatically.

"So is Matlock paying you to do this?" she demanded angrily.

"Actually, no. His aunt Catherine is the one paying me, but Matlock provided me with a few bits and pieces, there's more where that came from, if you're wondering," she added casually, flicking a speck of lint off her skirt.

"And if I do this, you'll destroy the evidence?" she demanded. Carol laughed.

"Of course not. But I won't tell the press about your _affair_. Just in case you decide to run back to his bed when the dust has settled," she replied simply. Eerin was by this stage shaking with anger.

"Why are you doing this to me? To _us_? If you cared about him at all you –"

"I want the name and the fortune, Eerin. You haven't earned it, _I_ have. I'm just restoring the universe to its true balance," she shrugged with a cool smirk.

"'The Universe'? Karma is going to _destroy_ you for this. I will _not_ be your bitch!" she snapped, grabbing the folder and rising once more to her feet. A moment later she felt Carol sharply grab her wrist, and pull her round. Before Eerin knew what was happening, Carol's hand collided painfully with Eerin's cheek, filling the room with a loud _smack_.

"Don't you dare walk away from this. If you love him, you'll do what's right," she snapped coldly, snatching back the folder. Eerin felt blood fill her mouth, and her skin sting.

"Is must be hard for you, when no one loves you, and you have to backstab your way into relationships," she spat coldly. Carol smirked.

"I'll take that as a yes. And remember, Eerin, I _will_ do this," she said finally, releasing Eerin from her grip, and turning away.

Eerin shook with anger as she grabbed her coat and stormed out of the building.

Options were spinning through her head madly.

She could tell Darcy, and they would face her together, but Carol was right, he would hate her for destroying what was so important to him.

They could just run away together, and not worry about anything, but she knew that would never be enough for him.

She could tell the police, but what then? The press would still find out.

She could confront the university, but he'd lose his position anyway.

She could tell him the truth about everything, but then he'd only want to ignore Carol, and their secret would be out.

She tried to breathe as she wound her way through people in the street, feeling tears sting her dark eyes as the city bustled around her. She only had two options, either she broke up with him, or she just disappeared.

She let out an audible sob as she found herself running through Hyde Park on that long stretch of path secluded by trees, heading straight to the fountain in the centre. What else could she do but run? Things weren't meant to _be_ like that; they were going to get married and have children and live in England, why was her entire future being suddenly pulled away from her?

She collapsed by the edge of the fountain, ignoring the questions of onlookers, wondering if she'd suffered some sort of attack. She held the edges tightly, her fingers whitening.

There was nothing she could really do.

Before she'd really had to appreciate everything that she had, it was being taken away from her.

There was only one refrain in her mind.

_It's not fair_.

**A/N: Yeah, so this is the chaos I was promising. Damn that Carol, eh? **

**So I mentioned this on 'L'Ange Noir', but I think this might be my last BIG fic. I might do one more. Or maybe two. I don't know. But I'm not sure I have it in me, really. I have a few ideas that I would like to do... but anyways, lets not trouble ourselves with that. Tomorrow, my lovelies, is my uni orientation! I'M ALMOST A GROWN-UP!**

**Seriously. I'll be **_**eighteen**_** soon. Isn't that awful? I love being seventeen. Mostly for this description, supplied by Stevie Wright in his song 'Evie':**

"_**She's got the body of a woman,**_

_**But she's moving like a Queen,**_

_**She's got the face to raise a riot,**_

_**And still she's only seventeen..."**_

**Not that I'm so narcissistic as to believe I have these qualities. But still, it's fun. So, uni tomorrow (I'm going with my dad, because I'm really cool like that, so if anyone is also starting at USYD tomorrow and sees a girl wearing a bowler hat hanging around with a sixty-something man with a santa beard, that's me), and then in a few weeks I'll be a grown up, and soon this fic will be done and dusted! Exciting, isn't it?**


	38. Of BreakUps and BreakDowns

"_The show must go on; the show must go on,_

_Inside my heart is breaking, my makeup may be flaking,_

_But my smile stays on,_"

-Queen, 'The Show Must Go On'

"I can do this," she murmured quietly to herself. "I _will_ do this," she said with more conviction, as she reached to open the door to the flat she and Darcy shared.

The walk to the front room felt like the longest she had ever taken in her life, but at the same time only a tiny fraction of a millisecond. She found him sitting on the sofa with a book in hand; reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He smiled as she appeared in the doorway.

"There you are. I was worried that Jannali would never have released you," he chuckled, sitting up and putting his book aside. He strode over to her with a smile before wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulling her forwards for a kiss. She lowered her head so to stop him.

"Eerin? Are you alright?" he questioned with a frown. She bit her lip, and shook her head.

"We need to talk," she stated with as much firmness as she could. He slowly released her.

"Ah. So this sounds important," he chuckled, sliding her heavy coat off and tossing it on the sofa, almost hitting Boots, who hissed, and scampered off to find a warm place to sleep. "Would you like some tea? You look very pale," he commented with concern, attempting to meet her eyes. She shook her head.

"No, I'm fine," she muttered quietly.

"You're a terrible liar, you know," he informed her casually, releasing her and crossing to the kitchen. He filled the kettle and turned it on, before glancing over to her. She stood in the centre of the living room, staring awkwardly around her. "You aren't giving me very good clues as to what you could wish to discuss, sweetheart. You're forcing me to draw my own conclusions, and I doubt they're very close to the truth," he continued, stepping back into the living room. She nervously tugged on the hem of her shirt, chewing her bottom lip so much that he was quite certain she would soon tear it open.

"I think it would be best if I just… said what I need to say, William," she said with determination.

"Ah… do I need to sit down for this?" he questioned, his tone hinting at slight amusement.

"I'm not sure. Uhh – if you like," she shrugged simply, not raising her head. Her dark eyes were sparkling with tears, but she had no desire to let him see them. She took a deep breath. "William, I – I can't do this anymore," she said finally.

A heavy silence filled the room. She could instantly sense the complete change of emotion – clearly he hadn't been expecting her to say anything of such importance.

"Ahhh. You – err, Eerin, please, darling, what do you –" he attempted, his voice filled with some sort of awkward mix of reserve and caution.

"I can't be in a relationship with you anymore, I'm sorry, I thought we could make this work but we can't, and I'm _sorry_, I really am, but it has to end now," she managed to choke out, pushing her hair behind her ears clumsily, still not raising her head. She sniffled back a tear.

"Eerin, I don't know what's gotten into you, but I'm not going to let you –" Darcy tried to begin, his voice firm, but she interrupted with a pleading cry.

"_Please_, no, just let this be it," she begged tearfully, hugging herself tightly as she practically trembled before him. Her eyes were watering a great deal by that point, shimmering trails of salty tears staining her pale cheeks and splashing on the hardwood floor beneath her. "Let's just end it and not think about it anymore, it's over, William, that's all that matters," she managed to choke out brokenly.

"What on earth is wrong with you? What are you _talking_ about?" he exclaimed, stepping forwards, placing his hands on her arms and holding her tightly. He pulled her to his chest. "Eerin, I don't know why you're saying this, but I have absolutely no desire to end this. I love you, I always have and I always will," he assured her gently, stroking her dark curls comfortingly. She sobbed, and pulled away. "Is this because of... what happened in England?" he asked softly. She shook her head firmly.

"No, I just..."

"We don't have to get married if you don't want to, Eerin. If you think I'm pushing you then you don't need to leave me for that," he assured her.

"_No_, William, please, you have to listen to me – this has to end _now_, we can't keep it going on any longer," she insisted shakily, finally glancing up. She still refused to meet his eyes. His face was pale, his eyes wide and filled with some emotion that she simply didn't recognise.

"Why?"

"What?" she exclaimed, startled with his accusing tone.

"Why? Why does this have to end? I think it's a perfectly logical question to ask, after _you_ decided to tear my life in two," he snapped curtly, stepping away from her.

"B – Because it's wrong," she stammered out. He gave a bitter laugh.

"Is it wrong because of our ages? My position?" he questioned, raising a brow in a mixture of anger and curiosity.

"It's me. It's _me_, I'm just not ready to be in a relationship, so it has to end," she insisted tearfully, her hands shaking.

"You're not '_ready_'? Five months into this and you suddenly decide that you're not ready for it?" he demanded incredulously. "So were you not '_ready_' to be with me when we planned the names for our children?" he asked snappishly.

"That's not fair. Don't – you're not listening to me," she said shakily, trying to calm herself.

"I _am_ listening to you, Eerin, but I don't understand what I'm hearing. You've given me no logical reason as to why you suddenly want to end our relationship. What am I to expect?" he questioned angrily.

"I _have_ to end this relationship! It's over, William, that's it! It's done! We're finished – so please, God, _please_, just let this be it," she begged wildly. He opened his mouth, as if to respond somehow, before closing it once again. He lowered his eyes and _glared_ at the space between them, which seemed to span entire oceans.

"If you need some time, after everything that happened, then I'm perfectly –"

"No, I don't want _time_, it's over!" she insisted passionately.

"I am not a man that easily lets a good thing pass out of his life, Eerin. I am not a man that will allow others to take what is his," he said, his tone heavy and almost dangerous, but strangely calm. Eerin tried to swallow down the aching feeling in the pit of her stomach. She _ached_ to go to him, to pass through that distance and embrace him, so he could make everything okay.

"I'm not _yours_," she managed to choke out, but everything in her said it was a lie.

"Look me in the eyes, and tell me that you aren't mine. Tell me that you don't love me. Tell me that you want this to be over," he commanded her suddenly. She took an immediate step back, and shook her head.

"No. I don't need to. This is it, I don't need to justify it to you," she retorted shakily. He took a step forward, and she found herself taking another back, until before she knew it, she was pressed up against the wall, and he was so close she could count his eyelashes.

"Say it," he ordered with such gravity that it caused a shiver to run through her entire body.

"I – I –" she stammered nervously.

"Tell me that _you_ want this to be over. Tell me that it's no one else, just you," he instructed, his voice so quiet that had they not been standing so close, she would never have heard him.

"I – I – It's – I don't –" she attempted, before lowering her face and stifling a sob. "I'm doing this for _you_! I'm doing this for _you_, William, why can't you see that? Why can't you let me go?" she cried desperately, meeting his stunning emerald eyes with her searching dark ones. Those eyes no longer reminded her of his cousin, only of pain. She choked back another sob. "I – I _have_ to, or else – or else –"

"Or else _what_, Eerin? What will happen if you don't end this?" he questioned patiently, but his voice was so devoid of emotion that she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"You'll lose everything. Your – your job, your reputation, she'll destroy you," she managed to choke out. She clumsily wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "She has proof. She has _proof_, William, a – and she'll do it, I know she'll do it,' she continued weakly. Darcy lowered his intense eyes and stepped away from her.

"Who is '_she'_?" he asked quietly.

"C – Carol. Carol Bingley."

"She approached you?"

"She said – she said if I didn't end it she would tell the university and the media a – and you'll lose everything. And it's not just her, she's got Matlock a – and Catherine behind it," she explained ashamedly.

"Did she hurt you?" he questioned, still not turning to face her. She unconsciously raised her hand to cup the side of her face, where her cheek still stung from her angry strike. She thought he heard him mutter some sort of expletive beneath his breath at her movement, but he said nothing.

"William, _please_, say something," she begged finally, unable to stand his lack of emotion. He turned to meet her eyes, and for the second time that evening, the distance felt like miles.

"I have nothing to say. You've disappointed me. You're obviously not who I thought you were if you let that horrible, _conniving_ woman get in the way of what we have," he said with a quiet, radiating anger. Eerin could have wheeled back as if punched with the surprise of his statement.

"I – I've _disappointed_ you?" she repeated incredulously. "After I had to rip my own heart out to do this? For _you_? Have you forgotten I'm doing this _you_?" she questioned with growing anger.

"Nothing, Eerin, _nothing_ that woman could ever inflict would give me even the _slightest_ inclination to abandon you, nothing in heaven or hell would _ever_ pull me away, and you just let her walk all over you?" he exclaimed. "The Eerin Beaumont _I _knew wouldn't do that – she would stand up for herself and to hell with the consequences! This is _not_ the Eerin Beaumont I know," he snapped curtly. "Perhaps _this_ is the obstinate child who doesn't know what the hell she's doing, pretending she's a grown-up and could handle an adult relationship in the first place," he finished, his tone heavy and cool.

Eerin stepped forwards with haste and intent. She brought her palm to the side of his face with impressive force for one her size.

"_That_ is for the slap she gave to me," she declared angrily, before slapping him again. "And _that_ is for the absolute _hell_ I've been going through for the past five hours, trying to figure out what to do," she continued, raising her hand for a third hit. He didn't even flinch. "_B_ut _this_, William Darcy, this is for me and for my family, because after the shit that I've put up with from you, from your family and from _her_, I think I deserve it," she finished, before punching him square in the jaw, and turning heel.

Darcy swore and reeled back in pain, clutching his jaw. She was small, but certainly packed a punch.

"Eerin, don't go," he cried out suddenly. She halted her march. "Please. Eerin. Stay. Just – just _stay_," he pleaded. She slowly turned around to face him, her face devoid of expression, her eyes cold and blank.

"The William Darcy I know would never beg. What a disappointment," she retorted bitterly.

Her remark stung painfully, but when she left the apartment and slammed the door behind her, silly words were the last thing on his mind. He practically ran after her, ripping his door open and slamming it shut as he raced into the hall. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to face him.

"I love you. Dammit, Eerin, I _love_ you – I don't give a damn about Carol fucking Bingley – I don't care about my reputation or my position, the only thing I care about is standing right in front of me, and I'm _not_ going to let you leave," he said firmly. She pulled her arm out of his grip.

"Well I _do_, William. I give a damn about your position because I know how much it means to you," she spat angrily.

"I don't care, Eerin, if you asked me I'd quit my job in a _second_, I don't give a damn about anyone else but you," he insisted. "A – And if you _wouldn't_, then it just means that you clearly don't love me as much as I love you, but I don't care about that either, I love you enough for the both of us," he continued, moving his hands to grip her shoulders tightly. "If she had come to me,and threatened to sabotage me if I didn't leave you then I wouldn't care, I'd _let her_!" he cried, practically trembling with force. He wanted to shake her and make her realise that he was serious, _so_ serious, that he refused to lose her to the likes of Carol Bingley.

"Well that's not what happened to _me_, William!" she said almost desperately, tears spilling from her dark eyes over her pale cheeks. "And you can't – you can't _say that_ and think it's the same! If _I_ were the only one that would be hurt then I wouldn't care, I'd sacrifice myself because I love you, but it's different when it's the person you care about more than anything in the world!" she cried, pulling against his grip.

Darcy felt an overwhelming sense of guilt suddenly stab through him. He let her go, unable to stand her tears for one second more.

"Eerin, please, _please_, I can't lose you," he muttered almost breathlessly as she released herself.

"I have to go, _Professor_ Darcy," she replied curtly.

Darcy reeled back as if hit. By the time he had regained his senses, she had gone.

**A/N: It's short, it's angsty, and completely miserable. Sorry about that. On the positive side, uni starts tomorrow! Whee!**


	39. Of Maiya and Misery

"_So say goodbye to love, and hold your head up high,_

_There's no need to rush, we're all just waiting, waiting to die_

_Hoping a better place is all I need, _

_With moments of innocence and mystery_,"

-City & Colour, 'Waiting'

That night Eerin went home. She didn't bother collecting her things from the flat, because she didn't have much there that she needed, she had her laptop with her when she left because she was going to show Jan some stuff online, and that was all that she required. Almost everything from her old life was still back in the Shire with her family, and she didn't want any of the beautiful things that Darcy had bought for her that littered their flat.

She didn't say anything when she returned home, but she knew that Warrain could tell what had happened. He gave her a comforting smile that she couldn't return.

Everything was over. Her future was gone, the future that she had planned with Darcy.

She didn't want to think about it. When horrible things happened to her she tried not to think about them, because it was so much easier. It was her system of dealing, but somehow... there was no getting over him. He was in her head on a constant basis, everything reminded her of him, it was a constant cycle.

"It'll be alright, possum," her father had said to her the first evening she returned home. At the time she had managed a grimace that was supposed to be a smile, and a brief nod. Had she voiced the words in her head, she would have screamed back to him that no, it _wasn't_ alright, because she loved that man to death and now he was gone, now she would never feel him hold her again, she would never feel his kisses or hear his laughter long into the night as she lay awake in bed, talking about the most ridiculous things.

She had never been comfortable in her own skin, but somehow Darcy made her feel... at home. Normal. As if she could be happy with who she was, she could be happy to commit to something other than a new hair-cut. She knew that changing things wouldn't help, but she did try.

She cut her hair again. This time she had Hannah, who immediately understood her dilemma the moment she walked into work the next day, cut her hair so short it might have been shaved on the sides with a heavy top that almost covered her eyes, shorter than she had ever gone, with a bit patch of cherry-red on her fringe. Her mother had despaired loudly when she returned home that day, which helped only in the slightest.

Eerin knew fully well that it was a childish way of pretending, but it didn't do much anyway. She couldn't do anything but crawl in bed and be weak and pathetic, or go for long walks listening to miserable music that Hamish had written for their band. She didn't even eat, which she knew would have concerned Darcy, and perhaps that gave her the slightest bit of pleasure. It was easy to be angry with him, she hated him for burning the box of memories she had made of the person she had wanted to be not that long ago, and for the smallest of moments it made a difference.

"Nothing you do is going to make things better. Not unless you talk to him," Hamish had reminded her a few days into her self-confined torture. He instantly recognised the glassy look of her eyes when he turned up at Carmen's request. "You kept things a secret before. You can keep everything undercover again, ride out the storm," he insisted to her softly. She shook her head, and snuggled deeper into the heavy blankets of her bed.

"No. Not now, not after this," she murmured, her voice muffled. Hamish sighed tiredly.

"What, so you're just going to give up on life? Let that bitch win?" he asked her in an attempt to bring up some fire.

"Go away, Hamish. I don't need your self-righteous shit; it's not exactly 'giving up' when you've lost. There aren't even any winners in this," she replied quietly. She heard her phone ring, and she knew Hamish was checking who was calling. She didn't need to know.

There had been phone calls, emails, even a few letters. She was worried he might turn up on the doorstep. She normally turned her phone off because he would ring her so often.

"It's him."

"I know."

Hamish sighed. "Do you want to talk to him?" he asked. She shook her head from beneath the blankets. "Fine. You know, I thought he was a prick anyway, but he clearly loves you, and I think he deserves a chance to talk to you," he snapped curtly, and the next thing she heard was the sounds of him leaving the house and getting into his car.

Eerin sat up when she knew he was gone. She turned her phone off and then readied herself to go for a long walk, where she could clear her head and try to forget Dr. William Fitz Darcy.

* * *

Darcy growled in anger when the recorded voice on the other end of his phone informed him that the mobile he was trying to reach was turned off. He sighed tiredly as it connected him to the voicemail.

"_Hullo! This is Eerin Kimba Beaumont's mobile, sorry she can't get to the phone, she's probably doing something stupid and boring, but don't worry, she checks her voicemail once a year, so leave her a message and hope that she checked eleven months and twenty-nine days ago!_"

"Eerin, it's Darcy. William. Me," he sighed into the phone. "Please, give me a ring when you get this message. I love you, and I'm sorry I shouted at you. Please, just don't block me out forever," he murmured, before the beep cut him off. He lowered the phone with defeat.

It was one of two or three dozen messages he had left her in the past few days, and she hadn't replied to one of them. He was beginning to lose hope and options, his one saving grace was the thought that he would see her at university and hopefully, by then she would have cooled down.

He couldn't possibly comprehend the thought that she was gone. It was impossible – not after they had planned their life together. She fit in so perfectly that there was nothing else but her; he wouldn't exist if she wasn't there, with him for the rest of their days.

He stared at the box that had arrived that morning from Switzerland. In it sat his mother's engagement set, in perfect condition just like the day it had been crafted by his ancestor to give to his wife. He knew it would look perfect on Eerin, he could just imagine it.

He was filled with a sudden sense of rage. He was angry with her for just walking out on him, he was angry with himself for letting her, but he was also angry with the one responsible for all of it, and he couldn't believe that he'd left it so long to do anything about it.

He jumped up and grabbed his coat, storming out of his flat and down into the Sydney streets below within a manner of minutes. It didn't take him long to get to Carol's hotel, and he was rung up with haste.

"Darcy! I'm _so_ glad you popped by, it's been an _age_," Carol declared dramatically when he stormed into her suite, slamming the door behind him.

"Whatever you have, destroy it. I'll give a million pounds if you leave us _alone_!" he cried angrily, feeling rage course through his body. She looked slightly surprised, and gave an airy laugh.

"Little old me? What have _I_ done?" she questioned nervously. He scoffed.

"Cut the act, Carol. I never cared for you at all, and what you're doing is cruel," he snapped, glaring at her through narrowed eyes. Carol's smile fell.

"You have a responsibility to your name, Darcy. Some little Australian tart won't live up to that," she replied coolly, seating herself on the nearest armchair with cool detachment. "So she came running to you about big bad Carol, and how she's ruined everything? She doesn't even love you enough to sacrifice her own selfishness," she continued pointedly.

"She's left me, Carol, in case you wanted to know," he spat. "She left me and I've been trying everything to contact her for these three days, but she loves me too much to risk what she thinks I want!" he cried furiously, clenching his fist by his side. Carol rolled her eyes.

"You're boring me, Darcy."

"What do you want? Five million? Ten million? I'll give it to you, just destroy whatever you have and leave us in _peace_!" he growled. Carol scoffed.

"No. This isn't just about _you_, Darcy. I have a problem with her, and so does almost everyone you're related to, so I'm not going to just lie back and take whatever you're giving," she replied coolly. Darcy attempted to control his breathing.

"Good God, Carol, I've never hit a woman before, but I swear, you can't just –"

"I can. I can do whatever I want, and I just have. You'll come round, Darcy," she said simply, leaning back comfortably on the sofa with a cool smirk.

Darcy didn't trust himself not to tear her in two. He stormed out of the room without another word, and before he knew it, found himself once more standing on the grassy patch by the harbour where he had gone after Eerin had first rejected him.

He had no idea what to do next.

* * *

For Eerin, the week passed with agonising slowness, but also far too quickly for her to gain a grip on her situation. Before she really knew it she was on the train, headed back to Sydney for class, wishing she could be anywhere but there. She wanted to close her eyes and imagine where she _really_ was that day, instead of headed straight into the lion's den.

Africa, she decided. She was in Africa, to the North, where she had walked through a street full of market vendors selling strange birds. The birds would screech all sorts of things as she passed by, their feathers gleaming brilliantly in the bright sun. She could slip in and out of the crowds as if she belonged there. As if she were one of those birds, in a Kate-Chopin sort of awakening, crying out memorised phrases in some sort of practised dance.

But Africa and the sandstone pillars of Sydney University were two different things, and that reality couldn't mix. She adjusted her bag over her shoulder and climbed off the train at Redfern station, before the ten minute walk to the university.

Contrary to her expectation, the day passed with reasonable ease. She could breathe deep with relief when the afternoon started to draw to a close, and she left Bosch to make her way to Fisher Library to do a little research for one of the essays she had just been handed.

"Why did you drop the class?" came a sudden familiar, agitated voice from behind her.

Eerin turned in the street, and glanced across the busy road where students were congregating and chatting away. She bit her lip, but did not meet Darcy's eyes.

"It doesn't contribute to my degree. I'm taking classes in European Literature this semester, sir," she answered simply, her voice much weaker than she wished it.

"You topped the entire course. Your marks were exceptional," he snapped.

"It requires a lot of work and time, and I need to focus on finishing my degree and getting honours for next year, sir," she replied quietly.

"You're doing a single major, you have plenty of room for this," he snapped curtly. "Miss Beaumont, I believe you are making a very serious mistake about how to approach your education," he informed her coolly. She glanced up.

He had changed. His beard was gone, and he looked completely exhausted. It was worse than when she ran into him at the beach, because this time there was so much unnecessary pain in his eyes that it almost made her burst into tears and throw herself into his arms.

In that moment, it struck her as so preposterous that they were, or rather, _had been_ in a relationship. That they had loved each other with soul, mind and body. He was so much taller than her, so much older and wiser and experienced, and she was just the silly, tiny little uneducated girl.

In that moment he was almost a stranger to her.

"I request that you come back to the class. It would be very beneficial to your degree," he murmured, with incredible detachment in his voice. Eerin wondered if he had perhaps realised how strange their union had been too.

"I'll speak to my other teachers, Professor Darcy. I have to go now," she replied weakly.

"I would much rather if we were able to discuss this, Miss Beaumont," he almost begged. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I really have to go," she murmured, before lowering her eyes once more and slipping away immediately.

Her heart was racing, that was unmistakable, but somehow... it was different, all of a sudden.

She might be able to handle seeing him, she decided.

Darcy watched her go with an incredible sense of pain across his chest. He realised then and there that he would never be able to survive seeing her in his classroom, but he would be equally as done for if he couldn't.

* * *

Eerin had no idea how to go about classes from that point onwards. She returned to the Symbology and Iconography class, as requested, although she couldn't help but wonder if it were cruel to Darcy. It felt cruel to herself, because every time he tried to meet her eye or speak to her directly she couldn't bear to look at him.

After a week in his class, she finally realised that she was dealing with any of it at all. The only thing that kept her going was his ever increasing detachment. She'd been given up on before, by her mother and by Jan and by Maiya, and by so many others, so she recognised his defeated expression. But she never thought she'd see it in his eyes.

She knew it was selfish of her, to want him to continue to want her, because she left _him_, not the other way round. It didn't matter that she didn't want to leave him, and that she was doing it for his own good, because she still felt intolerably guilty, and she didn't exactly have anyone to talk to about it.

Jan knew the bare minimum. That they were together, but now they were not, and, like a good sister, she didn't ask questions. Her family knew something was different, if not for the simple fact that she was now living with them once again, but they simply assumed she had run out of money to rent a place in the city. Carmen didn't know a thing, because Eerin and Carmen hardly spoke anymore. Secrets had taken their toll, and they had simply drifted out of each other's immediate spheres. She didn't talk to Hamish about it, because Hamish was always right, and she didn't need to feel any more stupid than she already did.

It felt like solitary confinement to Eerin, who was by now used to having Darcy around to talk to about everything. She felt it would have been tolerable, if they had nursed each other out of love, but it was sudden and unpredictable, and she still loved him. That would never change.

After a month, Eerin was starting to lose her grip on things. She barely spoke to anyone, and she had spent so much time trying to distract herself by talking long walks around the outskirts of the bush that she was losing more and more weight, which was the last thing she needed. She barely recognised the gaunt creature staring at her in the mirror, and that was really how she wanted it – a visible manifestation of everything that was screwed up. She didn't allow herself to wallow in angst, because there was no point. She did her best not to think about him, and everything she had lost.

But the silence was taking her toll, and she needed someone to talk to. She found herself knocking on the door of Maiya's bedroom before she really knew what she was doing, and the mumble from behind the walls alerted her to her sister's presence.

"Oh. Hullo," Maiya greeted her, spinning around on her computer chair to glance to her sister. "Dinner ready, or something?" she questioned with a raised brow. Eerin shook her head, and looked around the room.

It had changed a great deal. She used to share that large bedroom with Maiya when she was younger, but when their aunt moved out she got the flat. The walls were now deep purple and covered with posters of all sorts of frightening bands, and the room looked very dark on a whole. It was large, but Maiya had filled it up. She had a twin bed and side table in one corner, a large bookshelf that mostly had DVDs of all sorts of macabre animes and films, a TV that she vaguely recognised had once been in the kitchen, a sofa in the middle of the room that she didn't recognise at all, a long desk with a computer station, and a great big wardrobe covered in dark, peeling wallpaper. There was a door that looked like it couldn't close, and its angle revealed a little mini-fridge and a box of all sorts of food that required no cooking.

"The room looks different," she commented quietly. Maiya scoffed, and spun back round to her computer.

"The duck wallpaper was only cute when we were seven," she drawled.

"What are you doing?" Eerin asked curiously, shuffling over to peer at the computer screen.

"Looking up porn."

That got a laugh out of Eerin, with brought the tiniest little smiles to Maiya's lips.

"Just googling things. Trying to work out what to do next year," she shrugged. "There isn't much that I'm interested in. I'm thinking of maybe going to UTS, doing communication or something," she sighed, leaning back on her chair.

"No offence, but you don't like people," Eerin reminded her sister, who gave another shrug.

"Need a job. I have to get out of this dump," she replied simply. Eerin nodded thoughtfully, and sat herself on the edge of Maiya's lounge, mindlessly picking at the frayed edges. "I'm surprised you came back. If I were you I never would have come back to Australia after you left," she commented, glancing over her shoulder to look at her older sister behind short, cropped blue locks.

"I was seventeen, Mai, I had to come home sometime," she sighed, swinging her legs over the side of the sofa.

"But you actually had fun. You did something."

"Yeah, and I'm surprised I wasn't kidnapped and gang-raped before I got home," she laughed, but it was hollow and forced. Maiya seemed to notice this, and narrowed her eyes slightly.

"And what about now? We all know you've been kipping with a bloke, did you dump him?" she questioned, with genuine curiosity. Eerin shook her head quietly.

"No. Well, yes, but... I didn't want to. I had to," she answered, her voice practically a murmur.

"It was that bloke at Jan's wedding, wasn't it? The tall, miserable one. He was looking at you the whole time," she commented, swinging aimlessly round in her chair. Eerin nodded. "So why did you _have_ to?" she demanded.

"He's my teacher. That professor that I told you I hate," she smiled weakly. Maiya scoffed.

"You never _hated_ him, when you complain that much about someone we all know what you really think," she drawled, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on her knee.

"Good to know I'm so transparent," Eerin drawled with a wry smile.

"Did you love him?" Maiya asked her suddenly.

"Yep. Still do, but that hasn't done me any good," she answered wearily, sliding down on the sofa so she could crawl into a small ball, like a child.

"You know, you can tell me. I won't say to anyone else, and I don't care if you screwed up or if he screwed up, I only judge idiots," she offered, somewhat awkwardly.

So Eerin did tell her. She told her everything, even about Maggie and Victor. Maiya listened, nodding and commenting occasionally, but not asking questions of leaving judgement. It was very reassuring, and to have everything off her chest... it was the most incredible relief she could possibly imagine. But on the other hand, it brought new angles and perspectives to the problem that in some ways, only made things worse.

"So, now I'm back in his class because I thought I'd be able to handle it, but I can't. It's too hard, I just want to tell him that I love him," she finished quietly, after a good half hour of conversation.

Maiya gave a low whistle when she was done.

"Well. At least _someone_ in this house is having an exciting life," she commented with a small, comforting smile. Eerin laughed bitterly.

"Yeah. That's one way to put it," she murmured, sitting up, and hugging her knees. "I mean, I don't _want_ him to, but if he really didn't care about what Carol is doing like he says he does, then why hasn't he done anything? He constantly tries to talk to me, but he knows I'm not going to let that bitch ruin his life, I care about him too much for that," she sighed tiredly.

"Did it occur to you that he thinks you don't want to be with him anyway?" Maiya asked thoughtfully. Eerin looked to her with a frown.

"What do you mean? Of course I do," she insisted. Maiya shrugged.

"Well, I mean... he probably thinks that because you two were having problems, you kind of leaped at the chance to end it with him," she explained simply. "He sounds pretty insecure. You're over a dozen years younger than him, his parents carked it when he was young and his supposed friend screwed him over, he almost got his little sister raped and then _you_, he probably thinks that after everything that's happened you want nothing to do with him, and he wants to know you actually care before he ruins his life," she continued thoughtfully.

"He knows that I love him," Eerin insisted with a frown.

"Does he? Really?" she demanded accusingly. Eerin opened her mouth, trying to search for words, but none would come. "I doubt he thinks you're some predator out for his money, but he might think you're confused, or that his cousin damaged you too much to want to be with him," she added.

"Well what am I supposed to do? Send him a text, tell him that I _do_ love him and I _do_ want to be with him, but I still can't?" she snapped. Maiya shook her head.

"Nup. If you think he cares more about his job then you, and he thinks you don't want to be with him, then you're both screwed. You could be crazy and admit the _truth_, but what's the point?" she questioned with a shrug. "I mean, it should be his decision to throw his life away, not yours, but it's up to you if what he's losing is worth it, so you can't expect him to do anything, he's probably waiting for you," she rationalised.

Eerin lowered her head into her hands, and took a deep, wracking breath.

"So, if you really loved him, you'd leave him alone. If you think that his profession and his reputation is more important to him than you, then just leave for good, so he doesn't have to try to run after you," Maiya concluded.

"I don't want to leave him!" she insisted, feeling tears sting her eyes. Maiya shrugged.

"What more can you do? You can't be with him like this anyway, hanging around is only going to make things worse for both of you."

"What you're saying makes sense," Eerin began with an unsteady voice. "But I wish it didn't. Maybe I'm selfish, but I don't think I could lose him forever," she murmured.

"Bull shit I make sense," Maiya snapped. Eerin looked up in confusion. "I thought you'd argue that his job isn't more important to him than you. If you really think it is then you're either an idiot or incredibly, _incredibly_ insecure, and I just didn't notice," she added pointedly, glancing her sister up and down. "And maybe that's the case. When did you stop _eating_?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"It's got nothing to do with this," Eerin insisted pointedly, fighting a sniffle. "I've just been exercising again. It's not –"

"Well you can't expect him to just destroy his life if he thinks you don't love him anymore. So either you believe him or you don't – but make your mind up," she commanded.

Eerin closed her mouth tight and glared at the floor. How had Maiya turned everything around so completely? Was Carol really just playing on Eerin's insecurities, or her love for Darcy? Which was responsible for what had happened?

"I don't know anything anymore," Eerin insisted angrily, running a hand through her short hair.

"You never knew anything in the first place, if you bothered to resort to talking to me," Maiya drawled with a small smirk. Eerin sighed.

"I'm going for a walk. I need to think," she muttered, jumping to her feet.

She had some decisions to make.

**A/N: So. University. Hmm. Yeah, maybe not for me. Well, maybe Sydney isn't for me. I don't know. I love the classes, but I hate the crowds. I very rarely go into the city, you see, and I don't deal well with lots of people. This is going to be very difficult for me. A lot harder than I imagined. Also, THEY HAVE A DARCY SOCIETY! Unfortunately, they are impossible to find. I was supposed to go to a society picnic but I couldn't find them. Sad face. **

**But it's good. I think. French is good, because we don't speak English in there, even though I've forgotten a lot of my French now. And English looks AMAZING, can't wait to get into that one properly. Academic Writing is also wonderful, and I start the legend and mythology one tomorrow. But I haven't made any friends yet, or met anyone, really. However, my short hair cut is attracting a lot of lesbian girls, particularly as I tend to dress like a five-year-old-hipster with a penchant for pink and lace. This is concerning. My significant other is most displeased, but he can go suck eggs because he's studying at a different uni (he's doing astro-physics so he can make me a TARDIS). **

**UNFORTUNATELY THERE IS NO PROFESSOR DARCY AT USYD. THIS IS MOST DISSAPOINTING. I SHALL REVOLT. **

**Sorry I'm blabbering. University is harder than I imagined, probably because of the three hours of train travel which is making me realise that I need to learn how to drive. But, posting this is calming me down. Sort of. **

**Anyways, sorry about the angst, you can complain about it by pressing the little review button! Yay!**


	40. Of Birthdays and BackOffs

"_What are we doing here, have you lost your way?_

_Have you come to move close dear, is something the same?_

_There's a lot that's untold, this is not yours to hold,_

_Cause your love leaves me cold,_"

-Damien Rice, 'Under the Tongue'

Darcy was drunk.

It wasn't unusual for him to be drunk, for the past few weeks he would immediately hit any form of liquor the moment he returned back to his empty flat, but today Darcy was very, very drunk.

He'd seen her today. Sitting in his classroom, trying to hide at the back behind his taller students, her body covered in baggy old clothes that didn't hide her rapidly thinning shape. He'd tried his best to put her out of his mind and just teach, but he couldn't do it. She was there, always there.

He stumbled into his bedroom, and leant heavily against the dresser. Her hairbrush, a few bits of makeup and some bobby pins sat innocently, looming up at him. He grabbed the brush and threw it with all his strength against the wall, where it exploded in shards of plastic around the room.

Boots poked her head through the doorway to look at what had passed, before giving an annoyed meow and scampering out.

"Just like a women, hmm, Boots?" he spat bitterly to his cat, before awkwardly attempting to sit down on the edge of the bed, which seemed to sway and spin around him. He sighed deeply, leaning forwards, resting his head in his palms and wishing that he could simply fade away into the memories that were plaguing him.

It had been a horrible day. An awful day. He'd been having an awful few weeks, to be perfectly honest. His attempts to contact Eerin were constantly being foiled; she never answered his phone calls or emails or even letters that he would attach to her essays, she always left lectures and tutorials as quickly as she could to avoid the chance that he might be able to catch her at the end of class, and Jan wasn't assisting his efforts to catch her when she was in the city. He was on the verge of pulling up the university records to find out her home address, he was getting that desperate.

He needed her. Without her with him he was a drunken, pathetic man. He was more than prepared to throw everything away for her, but even so, what would come of it? If she truly loved him she wouldn't have let Carol manipulate her. Clearly he had been pushing her too quickly, and this was an opportunity for her to leave him. So how could he risk his reputation, his career and his precious sister's chances in life if there was no guarantee that Eerin wanted to be with him at all? Everything he saw said that she simply no longer loved him, and after the ridiculous display he had made of himself, he could understand why.

He answered the phone on the second ring when its shrill tone interrupted his musings. For a moment he desperately hoped it was Eerin, and he had never been more disappointed to hear his sister's voice.

"Happy birthday, Fitz!" Ana said excitedly. He rubbed his eyes, trying to regain some of his senses that had been dulled by the alcohol.

"Thank you, cricket. I didn't need the reminder," he murmured, wincing at the high pitch of her voice as he sat back down heavily on the side of the bed.

"Thirty-five! How does it feel? You're practically a pensioner," she giggled in return.

"Lovely. You're so kind, Ana," he grumbled sarcastically. He'd almost forgotten his birthday – he'd once wondered with tingles of excitement at how he and Eerin could celebrate such an occasion, but now he just wanted to forget it completely.

"I know I am. I sent you a present, but I don't think you'll get it for a few more days. I picked a really good one, this year!" she informed him happily.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm sure it'll be wonderful," he sighed tiredly. He didn't have the energy to talk to Ana, he just wanted to bury himself in his sheets and drown out the world around him.

"Did you get anything good?"

"No, not yet," he answered simply. She giggled.

"Alright, I don't want disgusting details. Is Eerin there? I want to ask her something," she requested.

Darcy grimaced. He knew the moment would have to come sooner or later, but he was hoping he wouldn't have to explain at all, that by this time Eerin would have realised that she couldn't live without him and everything would return to normal.

"No, she's not," he answered quietly, hoping desperately that she wouldn't press him.

"Oh, well, will she be back soon? Or are you two going out tonight?" she questioned. Darcy sighed into the phone.

"No. She won't. Eerin and I aren't together anymore, Ana," he said finally. Saying those words aloud was the last twist of the knife, and everything suddenly felt completely real and hopeless.

Eerin was gone, and she wasn't coming back. He was alone.

"What? What do you mean, 'aren't together'?" Ana demanded incredulously, after a short, surprised pause. Darcy rubbed his forehead, as if that would ward away the impending headache he knew would soon come.

"About a month ago she walked out, and she's moved back in with her parents. It's over, Ana. She's gone," he informed her quietly, feeling his voice break slightly.

"But... but... what did you _do_?" she exclaimed. Darcy scoffed.

"Yes, because it has to be _my_ fault," he practically spat. "I didn't ask her to leave. I begged her to stay, Ana," he snapped.

"But she loves you! She told me she does!" Ana insisted firmly. He could hear her tears rising up in her throat, even from across an ocean.

"Ana, you know that our relationship was far from perfect. There were circumstances that we couldn't predict," he said as steadily as he could, but the waver of his voice was alarming, even to him.

"Was it because of Victor? Did –"

"No. It doesn't have anything to do with him. I can't explain, Ana, so don't make me," he begged, closing his eyes tightly to fend off tears.

"But you love her, and she loves you! You were going to get married!" she reminded him, with a little tearful sob.

"I'm sorry. I know how much you loved her," he murmured sadly.

"Loved her? She – she was the closest thing to a friend or a sister or a mother I've ever had!" she cried, growing more and more upset by the second. "If you did something, then you have to change it, Fitz! She wasn't just with _you_, we were a family!" she objected. Darcy released a wracking breath.

"I know. Lord, I know. I don't want this, Ana, please, you have to understand, cricket," he pleaded. "There's nothing I can do. It's not her fault, but it's not mine either, she didn't have much of a choice, I swear," he insisted, feeling his own voice threatened with sobs. Ana didn't respond for a moment. "Are you angry with me?" he asked, almost fearfully.

"I don't understand," she murmured quietly. He knew she was crying by this point.

"I don't understand that much either, cricket," he admitted. "But you know that I love you, and we're still a family. It's been you and I for eighteen years, and we've been fine so far. We'll manage, I swear," he assured her with as much conviction as he could muster.

"You're never going to be happy again unless you two are together, Fitz. I _know_ you won't," she insisted, her voice choked and strained.

"I don't need to be happy. I have you, and I don't need anything else, Ana. I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

Darcy didn't believe his own words. In his heart he knew that Ana was right, he would never be able to enjoy his life unless Eerin was a part of it. Perhaps there had been a time when he could have forgotten her. If they had eased out of their relationship, then maybe he could survive it. But never like this.

"You're lying," Ana accused shakily. Darcy gave a long, slow sigh.

"I know. But if I say it, it might come true," he shrugged pathetically.

There wasn't really much more to say. They gave their goodbyes and Ana hung up, but there was a heavy silence between them that made any well wishes seem false and empty.

Darcy passed his eyes around the room when he placed the phone on the receiver. He knew that he should get rid of everything that belonged to Eerin, he knew that by keeping everything exactly how she had left it would only make things worse, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. For now, he just needed to keep the vain façade that nothing had changed, and that she was really beside him. Although, even in his drunken stupor he couldn't pretend that much.

It was too much for him, really. He knew he couldn't keep doing this, getting blind drunk every evening and slowly destroying her possessions in fits of anger. He stumbled to his feet and made his way out of his bedroom, down the hall and outside of his flat.

He was going to go to Carol Bingley again, but this time, he wasn't going to walk away empty handed. She wasn't going to come between William Fitz Darcy and the woman he loved again.

* * *

Eerin lowered her mobile, and slipped it into her pocket. She glanced around her surroundings before she realised that somewhere through that painful conversation with Ana she had stopped walking, and it was now growing quite dark.

She sighed, and instead of turning to head straight home, she sat down on the grassy mound by the fence that separated the residential Merryton Downs from the bush reserve. The bush had always made her feel safe; she'd never _not_ lived within eyeshot of it. It had always been a comforting, protecting presence that she could lose herself in when her troubles got to be too much.

She didn't blame Ana for being angry, she was angry herself. She didn't blame her for not understanding and for feeling betrayed, because they had been a family and you can't just break up with your family, but she had felt a stab of righteous indignation that made her want to cry out 'it's not _me_, I'm not doing this because I want to!'

Ana's words had hit home before she could really defend herself.

"If you don't want us, then just leave us alone for good, I want him to be happy, he deserves that at least!"

Eerin leant forwards and buried her head in her hands. Without realising it, Ana had told her what to do. If Darcy was going to lose his job just by being with her, then he would never be completely happy. He deserved the chance to have both things in his life, the career he loved and a woman who could love him.

She didn't want to be morbid and miserable, but she didn't think there was any way around it. Of course she wasn't prepared to just give him up without a bit more of a fight, because she was certain that without him there was next to no chance that she would ever be even remotely happy again. She had to try, she had to do _something_.

She hurried home as the light started to fade, and didn't even bother going inside the house, she jumped into her car and pulled out onto the road with impressive speed. She was on her way to Sydney before she even realised what she was doing, her heart pounding as she desperately tried to think of what she could do when she got there.

It took her about forty-five minutes to be outside Carol's hotel, and only two to be upstairs, banging on the door of her room.

Carol pulled it open sharply, with an angry scowl on her botoxed face.

"What do you want?" she demanded curtly, blocking the door with her very body.

"You know what I want, you stupid bitch. It's been a month and he hasn't jumped into your pants, I think it's about time you pissed off," she snapped, placing her hands on her hips and trying to look as menacing as possible.

Carol only smirked.

"You're sure about that?" she asked dryly. Eerin didn't even flinch.

"He hates you. There's no point in continuing this, Carol," she growled.

"Well, you can tell that to Darcy, if that's how you feel," she offered, stepping back from the doorway.

"I'm calling your bluff, Carol," Eerin scoffed, stepping into the room immediately. "I don't care about what you could do to me, but you're not going to –"

She stopped, and Carol smirked almost cruelly. As Eerin's eyes caught sight of Darcy's unconscious body between the rumpled sheets of Carol's hotel bed, she felt her heart literally stop for a moment, before leaping up into her throat.

She must be seeing things. It couldn't be, he couldn't be lying there, at least half naked in Carol Bingley's bed, he loved _her_!

"Try to keep your voice down. He's sleeping," Carol instructed with a horrible grin. "I can give him a message, if you want, when he wakes up?" she offered, her muddy brown eyes twinkling devilishly.

Eerin shook her head firmly, and tried to swallow back the tears that were choking her.

"Just tell him that I hope he's happy with the biggest slut this side of the planet," she growled, before turning heel and slamming the hotel door behind her, hoping he would wake up with a start, hoping that he had a blinding headache or got some sort of disgusting disease from Carol – because she was through with him.

It was one thing to move on, and she could understand if he had. Well, not really _understand_, but at least it made the slightest amount of sense.

But to betray her with... _Carol_, the very woman who was the means of their separation? _Was_ she even the single person responsible for the blackmail? What if they had been working together as an elaborate way to be rid of her?

No, she was through with William Fitz Darcy, and no more tears would be spilled on his account.

_An hour earlier..._

Darcy pounded angrily on the hotel room door. He heard a few small noises inside, but the door remained closed, only increasing his anger.

"Carol Bingley, you can't hide in there forever!" he roared furiously. A moment later the door was pulled open, and the lady herself appeared in all her scanty, orange-haired glory.

"Oh, Darcy! What a pleasant surprise," she smirked, leaning heavily towards him, allowing her dressing gown to fall open in what she probably assumed was a seductive gesture. He wanted to throw up in disgust.

"Cut the crap, Carol. We need to talk," he growled, stumbling past her to the chaise.

"You're drunk," she stated in slight surprise.

"That's none of your business," he snapped, cursing the amount of liquor he had imbibed earlier as the room swayed around him. "We need to talk," he repeated meaningfully, his voice laced with anger as Carol took a seat, and poured herself a glass of wine.

"Would you like one? It's very good, I just had room service send it up," she offered with a supposedly inviting smile. He shook his head. The last thing he needed was more alcohol.

"Stop trying to distract me. You know what I'm here about," he growled, not caring if he had slurred 'distract'. Carol coloured slightly, but hid her discomfort with a smirk.

"Of course. I assume you have something new to add?" she questioned airily, sipping her wine.

"Twenty million pounds. My last offer. You can't really want for more," he said firmly, his intensely green eyes locking on hers, practically radiating his seriousness. Carol shrugged.

"I'm not doing this for money, Darcy. If I wanted money from you, then I know you would pay a great deal more for her, if the stakes were perhaps a little less in her favour," she smirked. Darcy frowned.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, unsure if it was the alcohol that was making his thoughts fuzzy.

"How much would you pay for her safety, do you think? If you're willing to pay twenty million pounds just so you can be with her, still in secret, then just _imagine_ what her life is worth," she giggled, her muddy eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Don't you dare even _joke_ about that," he growled darkly, his fists tightening as he spoke. He almost surprised himself with the force of his tone, and by Carol's sudden change of colour, she was also slightly intimidated, but brushed it off with another smirk.

"The point is, I don't want money. I want _you_, Darcy, and if I can't have you, then she can't either," she said with a serene smile. He scoffed.

"You're pathetic. I _hate_ you. There are very few people in my life that I've ever hated, but you, Carol Bingley... I despise everything that you are," he spat. Her smile only grew.

"Hate, love, not a lot of difference," she laughed.

"In my case, it is."

"You have to understand, Darcy," she began anew, leaning forwards on the lounge. "She represents everything that I hate. She's in the wrong place at the wrong time; with the wrong man," she whispered conspiratorially. "And it's just _so_ easy to do this, to destroy her, so why shouldn't I? There's nothing stopping me," she added with a slight giggle.

"You know what? Do it. I don't care. Tell the whole world that I love her, I don't care about my reputation, she's all that I need," he spat, swaying slightly as he gripped the side of the chaise to steady himself.

"Well, that's if she even cares for you," Carol shrugged, with another laugh. "I'm sure you two will be happy together, isolated from the people who used to respect and admire you," she added teasingly.

"I don't _care_!" he insisted, slamming his fist down on the coffee table before him, which seemed to be leaping from side to side as he spoke. "You've screwed over the _wrong_ man!" he added, a little weakly as his stomach lurched. Everything was _moving_...

His stomach heaved once more, and before he could stop himself, he began coughing violently and sunk to the floor, his own vomit spilling down on his shirt, before his head banged against the table, and everything went black.

He didn't awake until the next morning, an unfamiliar alarm screeching in his ear. He groaned and attempted to sit up, sunlight streaming in from some window, making his splitting headache almost unbearable.

After a few minutes he managed to open his eyes slowly, adjusting to the light and the strange surroundings. He worked out several facts that didn't connect or make any sense to him at all.

Primarily, he wasn't wearing a shirt. But secondly, lying next to him wearing a pathetic excuse for a nightgown was one Carol Bingley, who was sitting up with an awful smile on her lips.

He leapt up with the situation occurred to him that he was _in bed_, half naked with an almost naked _Carol_. Her smile grew as he stumbled out of the bed, sheets still twisting around his ankle as he gripped the side of the bed.

"What the hell are you playing at?" he demanded angrily, wishing his own voice could be a little less _loud_ and painful.

"What, don't you remember last night?" Carol questioned innocently, leaning forwards, allowing her nightgown to fall open. Darcy cried out with disgust, turning away and shielding his eyes.

"I do, as a matter of fact, remember last night, but I did nothing involving removing my clothing and sleeping in your bed," he snapped angrily.

"So you _don't_ remember," Carol huffed petulantly. He scoffed.

"Don't try this, Carol. I'm still wearing my godforsaken trousers. And even if you dragged me to bed and did your best to seduce me, you would have a rather hard time generating any interest on my part, so I'm not falling for that," he growled, not brave enough to look at her again. "What did you do?" he demanded pointedly.

"Nothing," Carol retorted instantly.

"I _did_ come here wearing a shirt, you know," he snapped.

"Well, you also threw up on it, so I had the bellboy come up and put you in bed. The maid delivered your shirt last night just before I turned in, all clean and pretty," she answered with slight disappointment.

"So you didn't try anything?" he questioned warily.

"Of course not," she defended herself. He nodded, and then turned his back, stumbling over to the dresser, where his shirt had been placed.

He pulled it on with haste, and checked his watch. He didn't have much time, but he needed to hurry home and have a shower before heading to his morning classes.

"Give my love to Eerin, would you?" Carol called when he made to the door. He scoffed.

"This topic isn't over. I don't care about your threats, Carol, I love her and I'm not letting you ruin this," he spat darkly, glancing over his shoulder to the woman, who had now pulled the bedsheets around her scantily clad body, and was surveying him with a disgusting grin.

"Oh, it already is, Darcy. I think you'll find that she's not exactly your biggest fan at the moment," she commented airily.

Darcy lowered his hand that was about to reach for the door. It could just be his blinding headache, but there was something about Carol's tone that perturbed him.

"What are you getting at?" he demanded warily. Carol giggled.

"Let's just say her signals got crossed, but she's not to know that she got the wrong idea," she laughed.

Darcy wanted to stay and argue with her, and find out exactly what she meant with her vague little comments, but he really didn't have time. He muttered a curse beneath his breath and pulled open the door, hurrying to the lift.

He sped home and had a quick shower and changed before running down to his car and speeding to the university, arriving just in time for his first lesson of the day, Eerin's tutorial class.

As usual, she refused to meet his eye. But today a scowl was fixed on her features that seemed rather... odd. He wanted to speak to her, to hold her and assure her that his job meant nothing to him, but for now he had a class to teach.

"Good morning," he muttered to the class, who were by now used to his usual hangover through their lessons. There was a vague mumble in response as he took out his laptop and papers and settled in for the class. "We will be proceeding from last lesson's examination of mythological creatures and connotations attached to them throughout history, so please have your textbooks ready," he instructed, wishing he'd had the good sense that morning to find some panadol.

The students began to shuffle and murmur as they retrieved their books and notes and turned on laptops. Darcy glanced up to watch Eerin as she readied herself for the lesson, with her dark, stormy eyes fixed on her bag as she rifled through it, almost as if she were purposely avoiding looking up to him. Although, he realised bitterly, that probably wasn't very unlikely, considering the way she had been acting around him recently.

"Miss Beaumont. How do you believe the mythological symbolism of 'taming the beast' reflects mankind's growing understanding of the human subconscious?" Darcy found himself demanding suddenly, unsure of when the thought had even occurred to him to speak, let alone to single Eerin out.

She looked up with surprise as heads turned to glance to her. He celebrated a small, silent victory within him when her eyes met his, before she lowered them again, as if injured. Just having her _look_ at him, regarding his presence, that was a triumph in itself.

"I suppose... in terms of growing tensions between instinct and reason as mankind became more civilised, sort of like the rational and the mythical," she said slowly, her voice almost muffled as she spoke to her notebook.

"An example, please. Something other than _Harry Potter_, like we saw in your _last_ essay."

There was a vague chuckle heard around the room, but her cheeks burned red with anger.

"I don't know," she snapped instantly.

"I think you do," he challenged. She sent him a fiery glare, and he could tell she was biting her tongue, he'd seen her do it so many times before when she was meeting his family.

"Greco-Roman mythology."

"More specific, this isn't a quiz show," he retorted dryly. She tugged angrily at her very short hair.

"The story of the centaurs and the Lapiths of Thessaly. Traditionally the centaur is supposed to represent the wild and instinctive aspects of humanity, which was at conflict with the Thessaly civilisation," she answered sharply. "The Lapith king's victory over the centaurs symbolises the power of intellect over instinct, which was seen to represent civility and progress in society," she finished, her tone pointed and curt.

"Well now, that wasn't so hard," he drawled, secretly rejoicing at her angry glares. He would rather have her angry with him than ignoring him completely.

"It'd certainly be easier if you punished someone else for your own hangover for once," she growled quietly, obviously assuming he wouldn't have heard. The consecutive sniggers from her classmates and his sudden cool glare told her that he _had_ heard, and her cheeks burned brightly in shame.

"See me after class, Miss Beaumont, and we'll just see how easy my classroom is," he replied in his usual booming voice, sacrificing his own comfort for her increasing blush as his head started to pound painfully.

She didn't say a word for the rest of the lesson, and he didn't think he could resist the urge to speak to her again in case he would be unable to stop. She evidently hoped he might have forgotten her discretions as the lesson came to a close, and scurried to leave class early, but he stopped her from disappearing. She lowered her head as her friends sniggered and sat herself on the edge of the first row of tables, an angry scowl fixed to her beautiful features.

Darcy didn't speak for almost a full minute after the door had closed when the last student left. She glared at the floor in silence, and he stated at her.

In that room, they were not lovers. There was something that spanned an entire ocean between them that made everything seem so incredibly impossible – no, in that moment, they were still teacher and student.

"Whatever has passed between us shouldn't be a part of the classroom," he said finally, his voice quiet and almost desperate.

"Then don't single me out and push me into saying things you're going to punish me for," she snapped instantly, kicking one Doc Martin against the floor in frustration. "If you're pissed with me, say it to my _face_, not that you have any excuse to be angry," she added curtly.

"I think I have an excuse to be angry. You left me, not the other way round, Eerin," he defended with a frown. "I said things I didn't mean. But that doesn't equate to me wanting you to go," he added softly.

"I don't want to hear it. So are you going to slap me on the wrist, or something? Because I have another class," she threw back impatiently. Darcy sighed, and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"You're not eating. I know you're not, you wouldn't look like that if you were," he began quietly. "Please, just... don't let yourself slip into that cycle again. You shouldn't –"

"I'm not starving myself, so you can drop it," she practically growled. Darcy gave a bitter, incredulous laugh.

"Why are you being so _hostile_? I'm trying to show you that I still care for you, that I still _love_ you, and you're practically harassing me for it!" he objected passionately. "I know I said things I shouldn't have, but I never forced you to do this! This was _your_ decision, I would gladly give up everything for you, and you treat me like I'm the one hurting you!" he cried, stepping forwards with a sudden build-up of anger.

"_Don't_ touch me!" she commanded, pulling away from him immediately, her eyes alight with fire that he had only very rarely seen. "Don't play the injured party to _me_, Darcy, for all I know you could have been in on this with the stupid bitch!" she snapped, a stray tear spilling over her cheek as she trembled with anger.

He stared at her in disbelief.

"Why would I... I _love_ you, Eerin!" he insisted incredulously. "I would never – _she _– she's the one who keeps trying to pull us apart!" he objected, wanting to reach for her, wanting to hold her, even though he also wanted to shout at her till she saw sense.

"Oh, so it's just her, is it?" she demanded wildly. "So are you fucking her to stop the blackmail? Or is it just because you can't keep it in your damn pants for ten minutes?" she snapped, growing more and more hysterical as her eyes were stung with tears. Darcy looked at her in complete incredulity.

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about!" he exclaimed. "Are you accusing me of _sleeping_ with her? After all she's done? After – do you know who I am at all? What kind of man do you think I am?" he questioned angrily.

"I saw you in the hotel room, Darcy, I _know_ you were there, and you can't just pretend you fell naked in her bed by accident," she snapped in angry response. His mouth dropped slightly as he felt his heart stop.

"I – I know how it must have looked, but you _have_ to believe me, I didn't –" he began when he regained the power of speech again.

"And I'm the one who feels like the bitch in this?" she questioned bitterly. "I'm the one getting angry phone calls from your sister who thinks I've betrayed her? What kind of fucked up logic is that, when you're the one screwing that cow?" she demanded, taking another step back away from him when he tried to reach for her again.

"Eerin, I _never_ slept with her, I was drunk and I passed out, I didn't –"

"I don't want to listen to this!" she interrupted him sharply, wiping back tears from her dark eyes and staring at him with more anger than he had seen before. "How would you feel if you saw the person you loved and admired the most naked and asleep in the bed of the person you hated more than _anything_? Am I supposed to believe your shit?" she questioned incredulously.

"I'm not lying, Eerin! I've _never_ lied to you, I love –"

"Leave me alone, _Professor_," she spat bitterly, grabbing her bag and storming out of the room before he could explain. He stared after her in complete disbelief.

What the hell was he going to do now?

**A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEE, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEE, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO EVIE... HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEE!**

**So, eighteen years of age. I can go get drunk now! Not that I really have any intention of doing so. But still, it's cool that I legally can. I have been bombarded with gifts and prezzies (almost all of them are Disney related), I'm having a Freddo Ice Cream cake tonight for dinner, and I'm currently waiting for a phone call from my nan before I get dressed and go to university. Hmm. Not looking forward to the uni bit. Perhaps I should just rock up in my monkey pyjamas? Good plan. I kind of don't like being eighteen, because all of the good songs (**_**Evie**_** by Stevie Wright, **_**17**_** by Kings of Leon, **_**17**_** by Jet, **_**Paradise by the Dashboard Light**_** by Meatloaf, **_**Dancing Queen**_** by Abba) all have seventeen as the best age, but whatever, at least I can get a visa card now. **

**Anyway, I can't remember if this is an early update or not, but whatever, I'm updating. Lots of love, please review, all that jazz! I'M AN ADULT!**


	41. Of Disorders and Disasters

"_Why don't you just go away? I can't seem to get my head straight,_

_There's so much I need to say, it could take all day, yeah..._

_You don't help me now, so worn down, so torn up, still in love,_

_But what you got, I don't need it; I can't listen to all your reasons,_

_Wake up, I don't feel it, I can't listen to all your reasons,"_

-Matchbox 20, 'All Your Reasons'

"You have to tell her we didn't sleep together."

Carol rolled her eyes as she peered up at Darcy through her dark sunglasses. Jan and Chase gasped in complete surprise, not because he had just stormed through their house and out to their balcony where the trio sat eating a light lunch, but because they had honestly never expected such a thing to come from his mouth.

"Sorry?" she questioned with a surprised little laugh.

"Tell her. I don't know why but she seems to think we slept together, and she won't listen to me. Tell her that we didn't," he commanded angrily. She sighed, and sipped her iced tea.

"What's the point? I'm not going to lie to fix your relationship, Eerin deserves more than that," she answered, almost wearily. Darcy growled in frustration.

"Don't play your stupid games! _Nothing_ happened between us and you know it, the only person who doesn't is Eerin!" he insisted.

"Darcy, a word?" Chase requested sternly. Jannali was looking at him with disgust.

"I know what you two think, but I never slept with her. She's trying to tear Eerin and I apart," he snapped immediately.

"I think you did that on your own," Carol commented with a slight giggle.

"Fine then. I give up! You can have it your way, tell the university, tell the press, I don't care, I just want Eerin back!" he cried, his voice torn by anger and desperation.

"What, and you think she'd have you back after what you did?" Carol drawled with a raised brow, and a tiny smirk. "You haven't given yourself up yet because you know she doesn't want you anymore. There's no point blaming me," she added coolly.

Darcy groaned angrily and ran a hand quickly through his dark hair. He could feel his chest tightening as his heart raced, but he didn't have time for a panic attack. He leant heavily on the side of the balcony and tried to control his breathing as he screwed his eyes shut tightly. His hangover certainly wasn't helping the situation.

"Jan, give me the water," Chase asked quickly, pouring Darcy a glass of water and then practically forcing it down his throat. Darcy spluttered and some of it spilled over his chin and collar, but he managed to swallow a few mouthfuls, and then took a deep, gasping breath as he struggled to regain air. Then, Chase punched him in the jaw, and he stumbled back against the railings.

"_Jesus_, Chase, Ana usually just slaps me!" he objected, cupping his jaw with his hand. Chase scoffed.

"I wasn't doing that to snap you out of it, I did that for sleeping with my sister," he replied with a shrug, taking a seat at the table again.

"I didn't sleep with her! She's blackmailing Eerin and I!" he insisted angrily. Chase shrugged.

"Well, then I punched you for whatever it was that made Eerin think you slept with her, because she wouldn't just leap to that conclusion on her own," he replied simply.

"Chase, what's going on?" Jan questioned quietly, clutching her large stomach and looking between Carol, Darcy and her husband with confusion.

"Your sister-in-law is blackmailing me, and your _real_ sister thinks I slept with her," Darcy answered, before anyone could cut in.

"Nonsense," Carol chirped happily, sipping her drink.

"Why would she think that?" Jan exclaimed with a slight frown on her beautiful features. Darcy sighed.

"I was drunk, I went over to Carol's hotel to try to reason with her, I threw up on myself and passed out, but that's all I know. I have no idea what she did to try and make Eerin think such a thing," he admitted quietly, leaning back against the railings.

"Is that true? Are you blackmailing them?" Chase demanded of his sister, who was starting to look a little disconcerted.

"Of course not. Why would I? I only just found out they were together," she defended instantly. Chase's eyes narrowed.

"So _that's_ what you've been doing here all these months. I knew you didn't just want to see me," he accused angrily. Carol gave a false, airy laugh.

"That's just silly, Chase. I'm not allowed to visit my little brother?" she questioned with growing nervousness.

"Not when you're blackmailing my best friend and sister-in-law, Carol. That's sort of frowned on," he drawled coolly.

"What, so you're just ganging up on me now?" she scoffed incredulously.

"Carol, I don't know what's going on, and I don't really want to know. I suggest you head back to England. You're only causing trouble," Chase replied calmly, reaching for his wife's hand. Jan was still staring at Darcy, her eyes now filled with tears.

"So you're going to let him set up with the little slut? She's _twenty_, Chase! It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Carol cried almost hysterically.

"Don't you _dare_!" Darcy roared before she could even continue. Carol literally jumped in surprise with the intensity of his voice. "She is ten times the woman you could ever hope to be, and I've had it with the whole damn world trying to take her away from me. It stops here, Carol!" he insisted darkly.

She fixed a pout on her lips, and sniffed, as if offended by his words.

"Well. It's clear that I'm not wanted here," she snapped, rising to her feet and sweeping out off the balcony and back into the house, before they watched her storm down the road in search of a taxi.

Darcy wanted to go after her and hurt her, he wanted to punish her for all she had done to him, but he honestly didn't know if he could move.

"She was blackmailing you?" Chase asked his friend quietly. Darcy stared at the place Carol had been sitting, trembling slightly with the force of the past month's emotions. He nodded, but didn't speak. "Did she want money, or something? What was she looking for?" he questioned.

"I don't know. She said she wanted me, and if she couldn't have me, neither could Eerin," he murmured weakly, running a hand over his mouth, and taking a deep breath.

"Are you alright?"

"I need to punch something. Or kick something. Or kill someone," he replied, still staring at the chair in disbelief. "I can't believe how much she's ruined. She's destroyed everything," he muttered incredulously. Chase sighed, and stood up.

"I'm going after her. It's about time someone tells her off," he decided, kissing the top of Jan's head and slipping back into the house.

Darcy finally tore his gaze away from the empty space and leant heavily against the railings of the balcony, trying to bring some clarity to his thoughts. He had no idea what the next step was to convince Eerin that he really loved her. Should he reveal their relationship to the university, and quit his job? She wouldn't want that, but he was running out of options.

"I want you to leave my sister alone," he heard a quiet voice say from behind him. He straightened up and turned to see a tear-stricken Jannali staring at him with a fixed frown.

"I don't think I could, even if I wanted to," he answered honestly. "You have to help me. Please, I beg you – I know I don't deserve it, but I need her back," he pleaded, stepping forwards. Jan raised her hand to her quivering mouth.

"I _want_ you to leave her alone, and I wish she wanted that too," she said softly, screwing her eyes tightly shut. "Fine. I'll tell her you didn't sleep with Carol. She'll believe whatever I say," she said finally.

"I _didn't_ sleep with her, I would never betray Eerin!" he objected immediately. Jan shook her head firmly.

"I don't want to know. But you had _better_ do right by my sister!" she commanded angrily, glaring at him now with her dark eyes filled with fire – for the first time he could really see more than an aesthetic resemblance between the two sisters.

"I'm not the one pushing her away, Jannali," he snapped.

"If you loved her, you wouldn't have let Carol blackmail you," she insisted, sending him another fiery glare.

"It's not that _simple_!" he defended obstinately.

"What was she threatening you with?"

"She has proof of our relationship. She's going to reveal it to the press and the university," he admitted quietly.

"Then why even humour her? If you loved Eerin you would never have let it come to –" she began, before stopping suddenly, and frowning.

"I love Eerin. I don't need to prove that to anyone – but she's not making it easy for me. And I also have to consider Ana in this," he snapped, before turning to look at her when she didn't respond. He could sense something was wrong. "Are you alright?" he questioned with wary concern.

"I – I think I'm going into labour," she replied, her voice slightly squeaky.

"Oh. Err – a – are you sure?" Darcy asked carefully, feeling a very heavy sense of dread overcome him. Jan nodded as she clutched her stomach. "But – but you're not due for two weeks!" he exclaimed.

"I guess it's a little early," she murmured, her voice growing higher with each syllable. "God, what do I do? What should I do?" she practically wailed. Darcy immediately went to her side and held tightly to her hand.

"Come on, we're going to the hospital," he informed her with sudden determination and focus, slowly helping her to rise out of her chair.

"Where's Chase? I need him!" she cried, tears spilling over her cheeks.

"I'll get him in a second, Jannali," he assured her gently. "Come on, we have to move. We're not sitting here all afternoon," he murmured, taking a step forwards, as she followed, trembling as she moved.

Darcy was focused on only Jannali in that moment. All thoughts of Carol and blackmail and the fork in the road he was now standing at disappeared from his mind as he led her through the house and down to his car. She started to sniffle and wail miserably as he called Chase and arranged to meet him at the hospital.

"Call Eerin! I need her!" Jan commanded as he climbed into the front seat of his car.

"She'll never answer. I've been calling her for a month, Jannali," he replied, turning on the car and bringing the engine to life. Jan thrust a mobile into his hands before he could start to drive.

"Please, I need her with me, I can't do this by myself," she pleaded. He nodded, and dialled the number he knew by heart.

"Jan, I just had to walk out of a lecture. What's up?" he heard Eerin's familiar voice question when she finally picked up.

"It's me. Don't hang up," Darcy said immediately. She scoffed.

"This is a new low for you. I don't want to talk, so piss off," she snapped.

"Your sister is going into labour, and I'm quite certain she would appreciate your presence," he informed her before she could end the call.

"If this is a joke, then I'll murder you."

"It's not. Meet us at Royal Prince Albert, I'm driving her now," he instructed. He heard her sigh before she finally spoke.

"Fine. I'll see you there in twenty minutes," she said, before hanging up. Darcy gave Jan a comforting smile as he handed her back her mobile.

"Thank you," Jan whispered, clumsily wiping away her tears. He reached over and squeezed her hand briefly.

"That's alright. Let's just focus on getting you to the hospital, shall we?" he suggested. Jan sniffled, nodded, and he pulled out on the road and headed straight for the nearest hospital.

Chase arrived only a few minutes after they did, and from the look on his face it seemed he had been driving over twice the speed limit the whole way. Jan, who was by now a great deal calmer but still sobbing, was passed immediately over to Chase, and Darcy found himself sitting in a waiting room with two young children sliding on their stomachs beneath his chair. He was just wondering if he should go off in search of Jan and Chase when heard a familiar voice at the front desk.

"Um, I have no idea what room she would be in. I know her name, and I know she's having a baby. Isn't that enough?" Eerin huffed to a very over-worked looking nurse behind a computer.

"Eerin, she and Chase just went to see a doctor, but it's still very early," he informed her, stepping behind the familiar frame. Eerin turned and surveyed him with a slight frown, but she knew it was no time for arguments, and nodded. "Chase said he'd come back when she's settled in a room, but for now we have to wait," he added, gesturing to the small room where he had been sitting.

"Is Jan alright? Was she in pain?" she asked, almost desperately.

"No, she was just frightened," he assured her gently. Eerin gave a distracted nod. "Listen, there's nothing we can do right now. We're going to be here for a very long time, we might as well sit down," he suggested. Eerin sighed, and then reluctantly followed him to a chair, where she sat still beside him.

It was the longest twenty minutes of his life as they waited for Chase to return, and they followed him into the small, private room where Jan was now set up, wearing a pink hospital gown and sitting comfortably on the bed.

"Eerin! Thank god, you'll stay with me, right?" Jan demanded, reaching for her sister's hands and pulling her down on the side of the bed.

"Of course. You just relax, Chase said Noah slash Jack isn't going to make an appearance 'til this evening, so we have all day to kill," she smiled, leaning forwards and giving her sister a kiss on the top of her head. Darcy felt his heart tighten slightly as he realised just how much he would give to have her kiss him again. How much he would love it if Eerin could be the one delivering _his_ child, because then they wouldn't have any of the problems they had at that point.

Chase, Jan and Eerin quickly fell into light and easy conversation, broken only when a nurse popped in to check on Jan's progress or when she occasionally felt a contraction ripple through her. Darcy sat in a chair near the end of the bed, unable to stop watching Eerin. She seemed so casual and at ease that he found it hard to believe she had been screaming at him with tears pouring out of her eyes only an hour or two ago.

He didn't even know what he was doing when Eerin stood up to go to the bathroom, and he followed her out of the room. She glanced over her shoulder with an annoyed sigh when she noticed him trailing behind her, but did not stop her march. It wasn't until they were in an empty hallway by the visitor's bathrooms that she finally turned to face him.

"There's no need to follow me around, I'm not interested in anything you have to say," she snapped curtly. He sighed tiredly.

"I didn't sleep with her. I went there to argue my point, I was blind drunk because you've turned me to alcoholism, and I threw up on myself," he explained weakly, stepping forwards. "You have to believe me. I can't leave things like this," he quietly pleaded.

"I can't do this. Any of this. It's all been too much for me," she said with firm conviction, shaking her head at his explanations. "Go back to the room. Please. You're wasting your time, we're done," she muttered, refusing to meet his eyes as she headed for the women's bathroom.

He gave a frustrated half-sigh half-growl as she went, but he didn't leave, he waited for her to return, and she rolled her eyes at his stubbornness.

"We're not done. You're not a child, you need to face this like an adult, and walking away isn't a very mature way of handling something this important," he snapped. She gave an angry scoff of sudden frustration, and stopped in the hall, glaring up at him with her brightly burning eyes.

"Don't you understand, Darcy? I don't want you anymore. _I don't love you_. I'm over it. I'm over all of this, so leave me _alone_," she commanded cruelly, storming away from him.

Darcy's mouth fell slightly, and he could feel everything around him slow down to half the speed of real life. He supposed it was to be expected, wasn't life supposed to run down to slow motion when it was ending? He could practically feel the fragile walls he had established eighteen years ago crash down around him. It was over. She didn't want him; she didn't love him. Now, there was nothing.

As Eerin turned, she bit her lip to fight the tears she knew would soon flow.

_Break his heart_, she reminded herself, _and all of this will be over; a heart for a heart. You can go back to your ordinary life and he can forget you; you just have to hurt him first_.

Well, she certainly _had_ hurt him.

Although, she couldn't help but think that she might have hurt herself more in the process.

* * *

Chase knew that look.

He was, of course, completely preoccupied with the fact that every half hour his wife would hiss angrily in pain and that in a few hours he was going to be a father, but when he saw Darcy slip back into Jan's room after disappearing for a good hour, he couldn't help but notice the very recognisable expression on his friend's face.

It had been a very long time since he'd seen that look, but it was unmistakable.

"Are you alright?" Chase questioned his friend as he returned to his seat, staring at the ground before him with a distant expression.

Darcy nodded solemnly.

"Where were you?" he continued with a slight frown.

Darcy shrugged.

Chase sighed.

"A word, Darce, if that wouldn't be too ironic?" he requested, avoiding the confused gazes of his wife and sister-in-law, the latter of whom was trying very hard not to be interested, but he could see on her face the concern.

Darcy followed him out of the room, still silent, still glaring at the floor.

"You're not doing this. Not now. Not again, it's not fair to anyone," Chase snapped. Darcy gave another shrug, and a slight roll of his eyes that said more than words ever could. "It's about Eerin, isn't it? That's why you're doing this?" he demanded.

Darcy was still for a moment, and then nodded. Chase gave a frustrated groan.

"Darcy, please. Not again, you can't teach a class if you're mute," he insisted firmly.

'_I don't care,_' Darcy replied, but not with words. It had been a long time since he'd been forced to communicate with his friend in sign language, and he was hoping he might never have to again.

"Fine. Be childish, but you're _not_ doing this for a year, and you're _not_ going to crash a helicopter this time," Chase retorted angrily. "The only reason I'm not carting you off to a psychiatrist right now is because my wife needs me. But this isn't over," he added, before returning back to the room with a stream of annoyed mumblings.

"Is everything alright?" Jan asked worriedly, looking between the two. Chase scoffed and Darcy grimaced slightly, taking a seat.

He wanted to snap his friend out of it at that moment, because he knew Darcy's patterns. He knew that if he stopped talking it would be very difficult for him to start again, so the sooner he was making his dry little comments the better.

_Eighteen years earlier..._

Chase was worried.

Of course he was going to be concerned; the headmaster didn't just pull students out of classes for nothing. At first his nervous mind had instantly leapt to a series of pranks that he and Darcy had committed throughout their time at Eton, but the longer he thought on it the less likely it became. No, something was wrong, he could feel it.

"God, Darcy, there you are!" he cried out with a relieved sigh when the door to the headmaster's office finally opened, and his friend stormed out of the room. "What happened? Are you suspended for something?" he demanded instantly, rushing to follow Darcy as he paced quickly down the hall.

Darcy's shaking of his head was the only response he got.

"Well, are you in trouble? You don't exactly look happy," he pointed out, surprised to find himself almost running to keep up with him.

"I'm not. I'm not happy," he growled, his voice strangely weak.

"Well, uh, where are you going?" he questioned, glancing nervously around the long stone hallways in the vain hope that he might have some clue as to his friend's intentions.

"I don't know. Somewhere. Anywhere," he snapped. Chase wasn't to know at the time that those were the last words he would hear his friend speak for over a year, and if someone had told him at the time he would have asked a slightly more interesting question. He slowed down to a walk and let Darcy outstrip him. He could recognise when his friend didn't want anyone around him, so he watched him walk away in silence.

He didn't see him again for several hours. He wondered vaguely where he was, because someone was flying a helicopter dangerously close to the school, and he knew that Darcy liked to fly, so he would have been impressed. As students gathered in the courtyard, his vague wondering became stronger until he realised that the young boy flying straight in the direction of the ground was wearing an Eton school uniform.

"He's going to crash!" one boy cried out over the murmurs and voices of the crowd. Suddenly the students scattered across the courtyard; boys and teachers were shouting as the helicopter came closer. Chase fell to the ground and stared up in awe as it finally pulled up and landed on the grass with a loud crunching noise and then a thump, the blades slowing down to a standstill, and there was silence.

"WILLIAM FITZ DARCY!" came a terrific roar across the courtyard, and everyone turned to see the headmaster, his face livid with anger, his eyes alight and burning fiercely as he stormed through the crowd.

Darcy slid out of the pilot's seat without a word, and stared across the ever-decreasing expanse between himself and the headmaster as if someone had politely enquired about the weather.

"MY OFFICE, NOW!" the roar continued, until the two were face to face, only an inch of space between them as the headmaster barked his command in his face.

Darcy nodded, and then started up the courtyard without a single word.

* * *

"Mrs Bingley, I think you're about ready," the friendly female doctor informed Jannali, who gave a relieved smile and rested her head back into the starchy hospital pillow.

"Thank _god,_ I just want this to be over," she sighed, wincing as she felt another contraction. She clutched tightly to her husband's hand, who had through the course of the eleven hours they had been in that room slowly turned to a very frightening shade of white.

"So who will be coming into the delivery room with you?" the doctor questioned, glancing doubtfully to the husband.

"I will," Chase declared, but his voice trembled as the words came out of his mouth, and he turned a very alarming shade of green.

"Bro, I think you might need to sit this one out," Eerin commented with concern. Chase shook his head.

"No, Jan, I want to be there," he insisted, his voice unusually high and lacking any conviction. Jan managed a weak smile.

"You don't have to. I have Eerin," she assured him, reaching for her sister's hand.

"Mister Bingley, it can be very difficult to watch someone you love go through a lot of pain. I don't want to alarm you, but it's not easy," the doctor said consolingly. Chase started to tremble as he ran a hand through his light hair.

"But I'm the father. I should be there," he practically whimpered. Jan smiled lovingly to him, and allowed him to kiss her sweaty brow.

"Women's business, sweetheart. I'll be –" she stopped as she felt another painful contraction and cried out. Chase started to breathe heavily, and tears slipped out of the corner of his eyes. "Please, Chase, you don't have to be there. It'll make this easier," she hissed, clutching her stomach.

Chase nodded, and hid his head in Jan's shoulder, hiding a sob.

"I'll be right outside," he murmured weakly. She nodded, and smoothed back his hair.

"Ready to meet your son. I'll see you soon," she assured him with a warm smile. He pulled back, and with a shaky nod, rose to his feet.

"I love you," he said firmly.

"I love you too," Jan whispered, blowing him a kiss before Darcy grabbed his friend by the shoulders and pulled him out of the room.

"I'll die if she's not alright," Chase whispered, his voice shaking as he began to pace.

'_She'll be fine. This isn't the Dark Ages,_' Darcy replied through his hands, and gave his friend a consoling smile. Chase rolled his eyes.

"I can't believe you. Why can't I have a nice, normal friend without a severe anxiety disorder? This is going to be unbearable," he snapped. Darcy shrugged, and took a seat, watching his friend pace nervously.

Darcy didn't even know when he fell asleep, but one moment Chase was walking backwards and forwards in front of him, and the next he was being shaken awake by Eerin.

"Get up. Something's gone wrong."

**A/N: Sorry this is late! I'd like to give everyone a HUGE thankyou for all your lovely birthday wishes – I didn't do anything exciting like go to the pub and get wasted, due to some family issues going on right now (some of you are aware of the vague details through my blog, some of you aren't) it's pretty difficult to leave the house as a collected family unit without my little sister chucking a birthday-ruining tantrum, so instead we just ate Freddo icecream cake on the living room floor and watched Glee. Which is how birthdays should be, anyway.**

**The combination of uni (I had to read **_**The Odyssey**_** in one sitting this week – DON'T take English if you want time to yourself), my ridiculous travel schedule, work, siblings and planning my eighteenth party (see? I **_**do**_** do normal things, like have a party, although it **_**is**_** a Disney party), it's been kind of hard to get to a computer and update.**

**I also apologise **_**profusely**_** for taking so long to respond to all the PMs I've been receiving, I love hearing from everyone, but sometimes it takes me a while to reply. I'm so sorry, I'll get there, everyone! **

**Anyway, in an attempt to add some bitterness and frustration, Carol doesn't really cop it. Yet, anyway. But we're in the home stretch! Only a few more chapters left, so where will it go from now? Oh, and sorry about the cliffie. I'm mean like that, but I'll try to update with relative haste! **

**-Evie**


	42. Of Hospitals and Heartache

"_And I hate when you say, that I never fight for you_

_Sometimes you breathe all over my scars,_

_You always end up much closer than close,_

_That's where I give in,"_

-Damien Rice, 'Insane'

"Get up. Something's gone wrong."

Darcy's eyes shot open immediately as he was awoken from sleep by the very woman that had been plaguing his dreams. He glanced around to see that the waiting room was almost empty, and Chase was nowhere to be seen. The clock on the wall told him it was now about twelve-thirty in the morning, meaning he had been sleeping for two and a half hours. He then turned to Eerin questioningly, who was staring down at him with tears in her dark eyes.

"I know that Chase said you can't talk, but I don't care. You have to speak to him, it's about the baby," she insisted, all anger lost from her voice, only desperation.

'_What happened?_' he mouthed, desperately hoping she could understand. She sighed, and ran a nervous hand through her short hair.

"You really can't talk?" she questioned desperately. He shook his head.

He wasn't lying. He couldn't speak even if he wanted to. It was impossible to explain, but even though he would open his mouth, no words would form. He just couldn't do it, it was almost as if he had forgotten how to.

"I don't understand you, but I assume you want to know what happened?" she asked, to which he nodded. "It's Jack. Or Noah. Whatever; he wasn't breathing when he was born, they took him away, we don't know what's going on," she explained hurriedly. "Jan is unconscious, she passed out just after, but Chase is freaking out. You have to talk to him. Or – do whatever you do," she muttered, her cheeks burning slightly as she tore her eyes away from him and lead him down the hall to a small room.

He wanted to reach for her hand or kiss the tears away from her cheeks, but he knew that was too soon, and it wasn't the time. Now he was focused on Chase.

"There you are," his friend cried out with relief when he stepped into the room. Jan was lying still on the bed, looking small and frail, not to mention completely exhausted, even in her unconscious state. "They took him away. I didn't even get to hold him, they didn't tell us what was happening, they just took him!" he explained angrily, pulling at fistfuls of his own hair and trying to swallow back sobs. "What if he's dead? He was so small! God, if he – if –" he stopped himself and fell back against the wall, biting his fist to stop himself from weeping.

Darcy pulled out a pen from his pocket and grabbed the cardboard television directory from the bedside table and scribbled a short message on the back, before handing it to Eerin, who read it quickly.

"Like the doctors will tell me anything," she snapped, glaring up at him. "This is no time for your fucking games, Darcy! Just _talk_!" she demanded.

'_I can't,_' he mouthed desperately. She gave an angry sigh. '_I'm sorry_,' he added, hoping she could understand.

"You're going to be a lot more than sorry," she snapped.

"He _can't_, Eerin, there's no point," Chase said through the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"He can. He's just being stupid," she threw back angrily.

"He has a damn _disorder_, Eerin! Please, just do what he said!" Chase burst out suddenly. Eerin lowered her dark eyes, as if humiliated by her objections, and nodded, slipping out of the room.

Darcy's face burned with shame as she went. Chase was wrong, he _didn't_ have a disorder. He didn't care what others tried to tell him, he was fine. But he didn't have the time or the ability to argue his case, so he turned back to his friend.

"He was so small. I went in there just as it was ending, you were asleep. He was so small," Chase practically breathed, clumsily wiping back his tears as he sat himself on the edge of Jan's bed.

'_Don't think about that,_' Darcy replied in sign language. Chase scoffed.

"How can I _not_? My son could – he could –" he stammered, before giving an angry half-sob, half-sigh.

'_Don't think about it. Think about Jannali, she's alive, she's fine, you have her_,' Darcy insisted in response. Chase practically shook as he tried to suppress tears, fixing his eyes on Jan with determination.

Eerin returned quickly, avoiding Darcy's eyes and turning immediately to Chase, who jumped up the moment she entered the room.

"They said he's going to have a... a 'minor procedure' or something. A doctor is going to talk to you in a minute, but I could run faster than him," she explained quickly.

"What's wrong with him? Is he alright?" Chase demanded immediately.

"I don't know, they said his lungs... I don't know. They didn't tell me much," she muttered apologetically. Chase gave a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair once more, starting to pace with a burst of nervous energy that manifested itself in an increasing trembling that took over his whole body.

Darcy stepped into his pacing path immediately, and fixed his hands on Chase's shoulders, staring at him intensely.

'_Breathe_,' he instructed silently. Chase shook even more, his eyes darting all around the room and air coming in short sharp bursts. '_Breathe,_' Darcy repeated, again without sound passing his lips, but this time it seemed to have an effect, as Chase's trembles decreased in their violence, and he was finally breathing slowly and calmly again before collapsing against his friend with a sob. Darcy clapped his hand comfortingly against Chase's back as he shook in his arms.

Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy could see that Eerin was crying. But he didn't have the time or the energy to think of Eerin, he needed to focus on Chase at that moment.

"Chase?" came a soft whimper from the bed.

In an instant Chase was at his wife's side, clutching her hands as she looked to him in confusion.

"Wh – Where – what –" she began quietly, looking to Eerin, who was staring at the ground with steely reserve. "What's going on? Where is he?" she asked breathlessly.

Before any explanations could be given, the doctor who had been in the room previously appeared in the doorway, and Darcy was grabbing Eerin by the shoulders, steering her from the room.

"I want to be there for her!" she insisted angrily, pulling against him as the door closed behind them.

'_No, you can't,_' he mouthed, but he was sure she didn't see his lips. She finally tore away from him, and turned to glare up at him with her dark eyes filled with tears, shaking slightly.

"He needs to be alright. He has to be," she insisted weakly. "I mean – he, he's just a baby. He's just a _baby_!" she cried angrily, wiping her cheeks with trembling hands.

Darcy reached forwards for her, and she immediately began beating her small fists against his chest. He did not pull away until he held her tightly to his chest, and she collapsed against him. He could hear her sharply inhaling and exhaling, and the damp patch of his shirt told him that she was still crying. But he didn't care; he could have held her for all eternity and nothing would give him greater pleasure.

But this was not for any joy on his part; this was a former lover meeting a former lover for comfort. He held her because he knew that she couldn't survive losing a nephew that she already loved so much on her own, because he knew her better than anyone, and no matter her strength, she needed someone for this.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," she finally whispered against his chest, when her sobs had ceased and she no longer trembled. "I know you can't talk. I was just angry with you," she added quietly.

Darcy did not reply, only held her tighter, and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, as he had done when they were lovers. She didn't pull away, but sighed against his chest. She didn't have the energy to be angry.

He didn't know how long they stood there, but it felt like an eternity. Finally a nurse tapped Darcy on the shoulder, and informed him that Baby Bingley was now in an intensive care ward, and they were able to see him with the parents. Eerin peeled herself out of his arms with an apologetic grimace, and then followed the nurse down the hallway in silence.

Just before they entered a different room in a different part of the hospital, Darcy reached for her hand. She looked to him with a pained expression in her dark eyes, but did not pull away. They walked in together to see Chase and Jan (who was in a wheelchair and looked like she should be in bed) leaning over the plastic casing that formed Baby Bingley's first cradle.

He was small. Darcy wasn't an expert in newborns, as he had only seen Ana a few times before the death of his parents, but he knew instantly that the baby lying before him, all pink and wrinkled with tubes sticking out of him, was smaller than a newborn should really be.

"How is he?" Eerin asked softly. Chase turned with a pained smile, and nodded.

"He's alright. They think he's going to be okay," he murmured, reaching for Jan's hand. Jan was completely unmoving, staring down at her son, not even blinking, as if by shifting her sight for even a moment she would be abandoning him. "His lungs weren't developed enough. They missed it on the scans, but they managed to... well, I don't even know what they did, but they have a machine, and it... it breathes for him," he explained quietly.

"When can he breathe on his own?" Eerin questioned carefully. Chase shrugged.

"Soon, they hope. He's going to stay here for a while, until he's better," he answered, before turning back to his son. "So, what do you think? Jack, or Noah?" he asked, forcing a smile and a cheerful tone.

"Lowan," Eerin insisted instantly. Chase looked to her doubtfully.

"Uhh... Lowan?"

"It means strong. Well, it also means some sort of bird, but I think Noah Lowan Bingley has a bit of a ring to it," she smiled. Jan looked up to her, breaking her unmoving gaze, and Eerin gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

"Alright... Noah Lowan Bingley, then," Chase decided, turning back to his son, who was sleeping silently.

Darcy sunk back to lean against the wall. He decided it was more important to give the family space than to introduce himself to his godson, and he very much doubted he was that wanted by those assembled.

They stood there for a very long time, just staring at the child, before a nurse appeared, and insisted that Jan return to her room. Reluctantly she was wheeled out by her husband, with Eerin following behind.

"You can stay for a few more minutes if you want, but then you have to leave," the nurse informed Darcy sternly, when she noticed he was still in the room. He nodded, and when she had gone, walked slowly up to the sterile plastic bed Noah lay in.

He wanted to speak. He wanted to talk to his godson, to greet him into the world, but the words came with great difficulty. For a few minutes he just stood there, focusing on his breathing, trying to recall the age-old movement of his vocal chords to make sound.

But it wasn't the recollection of that movement that finally allowed him to speak. It was the recollection of Eerin's hand, held in his only a few moments ago. The fact that she seemed to take comfort in him at such a time gave him hope; could it mean that she didn't really hate him? That despite her objections, she needed him? That was all he really wanted; to be needed. The thought that Eerin, and then this tiny, wrinkled little child, could need him gave him the strength to form words.

"So, here at last," he finally whispered, so quietly he could barely hear himself. Noah slept on, oblivious to his presence. Darcy sighed, trying to wrap his head around the thought that there was now a living little child that his best friend had created with the woman he loved. "If I hadn't been such a twat, Eerin and I could have had one of you in only a little while," he croaked, taking the chair by the large machine that was breathing for him.

Darcy chuckled at the thought. It seemed that he would never have his own Noah, because Eerin was gone.

'_Don't you understand, Darcy? I don't want you anymore. I don't love you. I'm over it. I'm over all of this, so leave me alone.'_

He closed his eyes tightly as he pressed his forehead lightly against the plastic case that concealed Noah from the outside world. Images of Eerin's angry eyes and her harsh words spun round in his mind, teasing him, torturing him.

"She will be the _best_ of aunts to you, and I'm sorry I won't get to see you grow up. But I can't be here, with her and without her at the same time," he apologised to the silent child.

'_If I were the only one that would be hurt then I wouldn't care, I'd sacrifice myself because I love you, but it's different when it's the person you care about more than anything in the world_.'

He hissed angrily at the memory, and once more squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

'_She was the closest thing to a friend or a sister or a mother I've ever had. If you did something, then you have to change it, Fitz. She wasn't just with you, we were a family.'_

"What did I do wrong, Noah? Where did I screw up in this? What did I do to lose her?" he asked softly.

Noah, of course, didn't answer. He didn't know why he was blurting out his feelings to a newborn child, but it wasn't like he had anyone else to talk to now.

"I thought you couldn't talk?" came a questioning drawl from the doorway. He turned around to see Eerin standing behind him, her face forming a nervous, almost apologetic smile.

"Sorry. It's easy to speak when no one listens," he replied, his voice soft, glancing back to the child.

"He's beautiful," she said quietly. He nodded. "Um, you... you don't need to leave. You said you wouldn't get to see him grow up, but you don't have to. Go, that is," she said nervously.

Darcy turned slowly, looking up to her with a confused expression.

"Do you mean –"

"No. I don't mean... that. But I won't make it hard for you to stay, if you want," she explained simply. He sighed, and then nodded. "I mean... Chase needs you. I could see that before, in Jan's room," she added awkwardly.

"I never slept with her, Eerin," Darcy said quietly, still staring down at Noah.

"I don't think it matters if I believe you or not, Will. This was never going to work from the beginning," she replied honestly. "I'm still angry with you, but... we can be friends. It wouldn't be impossible," she added, placing her hand on his shoulder. He moved his own to press over hers, treasuring the feel of her fingers beneath his palm, because he knew he wasn't going to feel that again.

"Please don't do this," he whispered, his voice cracked and strained. "_Please_, I'm begging you. Don't just leave it like this," he quietly pleaded, squeezing tightly to her fingers as if that alone could change things.

She didn't speak for over a minute. The silence was almost unbearable.

"We can't go back to how it was, Darcy," she murmured.

"Don't call me that. You were the only one who called me William. You don't know what that means to me," he insisted firmly. She sighed.

"We can still be friends, _William_. We get along, usually. We can manage, at least for Noah's sake," she meekly offered.

Darcy took a long, deep, slow breath.

"No, we can't," he said, his voice raw with honesty and the threat of tears. He looked up to her slowly, meeting her eyes. "I can't be your 'friend'. I'm sorry, but it's too much to ask of me. From this moment on, I have to be your teacher and nothing more," he continued, measuring out his voice quietly.

Eerin sniffled slightly, and nodded, tears forming in her eyes for the millionth time that day, eyeliner and mascara smudged in a not unattractive blotch beneath her dark eyes. He rose to his feet, and took her in his arms so carefully; it was as if he feared she might break.

He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, so softly and tenderly she couldn't help but allow the tears stinging her eyes to slip down her cheeks. He kissed her with a slow, gentle determination, but all too soon he stepped away from her.

"Goodbye, Eerin," he said quietly. She sniffled, and gave a bitter sort of laugh.

"This is so stupid. Why is this... I never wanted my life to be a soap opera," she muttered with slight frustration. He shrugged, and she responded with an angry sigh. "Fine then. Goodbye, William. Or Fitz. Or Darcy. Or whoever you are, because I honestly thought I knew, but I guess I was wrong. Again," she said quietly, staring at the space between them as if it had personally abused her.

"If there's anything I can do to fix this, Eerin, I would. I don't want this," he said honestly. Eerin shook her head, and lowered her dark eyes.

"You didn't fight for me. I guess that's what hurt the most. If you wanted me to believe that you loved me more than your job, you would have left. But you can't change that," she muttered with a pained sort of smile. "That's alright. I'll manage. See you later, Professor," she finished, holding her head up high and walking out of the room.

"Don't fall in love, Noah," Darcy murmured quietly to the sleeping child. "You won't like it."

* * *

The next few weeks passed quickly. Noah was released from the hospital after sixteen days, and was welcomed very enthusiastically into Beaumont family. Carol returned to England just after meeting her nephew, and was asked never to return. Or rather, she was served a restraining order that demanded she never return, and she shamefully slunk back to the protection of her parents. Matlock, being the slippery, slimy snake he was, abandoned any connection he had with Carol, leaving her to take all of the blame.

Eerin moved in temporarily with Chase and Jannali to assist with the first few weeks of Noah's care, as he required constant attention, and the new parents were so focused on their son's health that they needed Eerin to look after them, or they would forget to eat three times a day and sleep eight hours a night. No one could claim she was happy in this situation. But Darcy slipped seamlessly out of everyone's lives, teaching Eerin's classes and speaking to no one. Once or twice Chase called, inviting him over to see his godson, but Darcy would always decline.

Life was winding down for all of them, and new routines were developing. Eerin busied herself with university work and her job back in the shire when she wasn't looking after Jan and Chase, who were spending every waking hour looking after Noah.

Darcy didn't think. He was running on auto-pilot, and refused to allow himself to stray into his own mind for more than a few moments. He worked, he ate and he slept. He wouldn't pretend that he was living, he simply existed. It was easier that way, than to contemplate just what he was missing.

He left things the way they were. He had tried to remove Eerin's things, but he had quickly come to the realisation that by removing her fruity shampoo from the shower, her clothes from the wardrobe and her makeup from the bench, he would be stripping himself of the few things that reminded him of her existence. He preferred to live in the belief that their short time together had been enough for him, and that he did not fear the empty lifetime ahead. But it was a day-by-day existence, and there were so many days left.

For a short time each day he would contemplate taking his life, but never with too much seriousness, and day after day he realised that it would be too selfish for him to consider any further, and that thought would be buried away til the next evening. He was fundamentally a practical man, when he wasn't plagued by anxiety or passion. He didn't weep or throw her belongings at the wall when he thought of their time together and how it had ended, because tears were the manifestation of emotion's control over the mind and body, and he learnt quickly into his self-enforced isolation that this was only a burden.

After a month Eerin moved back to the shire, and he was able to visit Chase, Jannali and Noah a few nights a week. It was frustrating to see that the boy was already growing to resemble too closely his mother, who resembled too closely her sister, and the eyes that were blue at birth turned to that familiar combination of earthy-amber and sea green. For this alone he limited his visits to those only necessary. He brushed off the concern of his friend and retreated further into himself, determined to live out the rest of the semester and return to England before the memories got the best of him.

Eerin, for her own part, was hardly dealing any better. She drove herself with goals that would take her further and further away from everything that she associated with Darcy. She stopped seeing her friends and going to Max Brenner. She got a few tattoos and added another tuft of scarlet to her short hair. She began preparations for another extended trip around Europe, one in which she had secretly determined not to return from. She would find some beautiful country and then slip into a strange world as a stranger, a foreigner. A fresh start was what she needed; she would tell herself without truly believing it.

Inside she knew that she would never be able to forget him. It wasn't a thought that came on in waves and ruined a hopeful or pleasant thought with its bleak reality; it was a constant, underlying ache that didn't even allow hopeful, pleasant thoughts to enter her mind. She wasn't interested in wallowing, however, because she had done plenty of that. She was focused on the future, on the hope of a life without him.

The two of them certainly had very morbid outlooks on life. This was quite a contrast to the overflowing happiness that Chase and Jannali were feeling as Noah got stronger and healthier with each passing day. They were perfectly happy in almost every regard, but unfortunately Darcy and Eerin were such large parts of their life as normal individuals who did not stubbornly suppress their issues, that they were unable to achieve complete bliss while they had to suffer the distant expressions and pained smiles of their loved ones.

They were slightly at odds in ideas on how to approach the situation. Chase was convinced that by locking them in a room for twenty-four hours they would resolve their issues and come to a very happy reunion, while Jan felt very strongly that the best way was to leave things be, and the two would eventually realise that they couldn't live without each other. Chase loved his wife very much, but he knew she wasn't always completely right in every situation. He tried talking to Darcy, hoping he could convince him to speak to Eerin and explain his side of things properly, but Darcy would have none of it.

He hadn't tried talking to Eerin, but he was certain after about six weeks of the grimaces and glazed eyes that he was running out of options.

"You can't feed him a tim-tam, Eerin," Chase sniggered, strolling into the kitchen to see Eerin with baby Noah on her lap, teasing him with a chocolate biscuit.

"He wants to eat it, I know. He'll love it," she assured him. Chase laughed, and rolled his eyes, snatching the biscuit from her hand and swallowing it whole. She scoffed, and reached for her own biscuit instead, sucking on the chocolate thoughtfully.

"So how have you been?" Chase asked, sitting down at the kitchen table.

She gave a forced smile, and suddenly looked very distant.

"Fine. I'm fine," she assured him vaguely. Chase rolled his eyes; he'd heard _that_ one before.

"Jan's gone for a nap, you know. You can tell me," he assured her.

"Seriously, I'm great. Loving the tim-tams," she replied with a second forced smile. Chase leant back in his chair with a long, slow sigh.

"Alright, I think I've had enough of this," he decided. She looked at him with a raised brow.

"Enough of what? Biscuits? I don't think you can ever have enough of biscuits."

"Eerin, I like you. You're a good kid. A little weird, but that just makes life amusing," he began, his tone very factual.

"Hmm, nice to hear," she drawled.

"But you're being really, _really_ stupid right now," he stated simply. Eerin groaned.

"Jesus, I didn't give him the tim-tam! I figured that because you said no to the violet crumble this was a bit of a no-no too," she assured him emphatically.

"I meant Darcy. You're being stupid about Darcy," he rephrased.

Eerin opened her mouth to object, but closed it silently.

"None of your business, Chase," she snapped, bobbing Noah up and down gently on her knee.

"It's been ages since you two broke up. I think it's about time you had a conversation," he insisted. Eerin scoffed.

"We've had conversations. We're pretty much done on that part," she assured him dryly, tapping her painted-purple nails on the kitchen table.

"He didn't sleep with my sister, you know," he commented. Eerin sighed, and leant her head back.

"I _know_, alright? I know he didn't sleep with Carol. I'm not an idiot," she retorted pointedly, looking back up to send him a fiery glare.

"Then... why... I don't get it," Chase frowned with confusion. "He didn't do anything wrong. He was being blackmailed, remember?" he reminded her, suddenly worried she might have forgotten everything that had occurred.

"He had the choice. I couldn't make it for him, it wasn't my right," she snapped. "He and I both knew I didn't fit in his life. So he had to change his life for me, and he decided not to, hoping I might be able to squeeze in," she explained with slight frustration.

"So... you wanted him to give in? To tell her she could do what she wanted, destroy his life, because he wanted you, not his job?" he questioned. She sighed, and shrugged.

"He kept on saying he loved me more than his work, but he didn't do anything about it. He could have quit, or even asked me to leave the university. I would have done that for him, but I couldn't pick for him," she answered. "But that wasn't just it. There were a lot of things that contributed to it. We were having problems anyway, and things just fell apart. Chase, I know you care and I know you love him, but... there were just so many things that ruined this relationship," she continued slowly, thinking over her words as Noah gurgled happily on her lap.

"I've never seen him this bad, Rin. At least when his parents died he was able to focus on Ana. He's slipping off the edge," he insisted firmly. She shrugged.

"I can't change what happened."

"Well, at least he's talking. But I doubt it'll last," he murmured with a shrug.

"Does he really have an anxiety disorder?" she questioned quietly, true concern overtaking her voice.

"I think so. He had to see a doctor years ago who said he did, but he refused to believe it. He admitted that the panic attacks were bad, but he didn't think the whole 'not-speaking' thing was due to anxiety or nervousness," he explained thoughtfully. Eerin sighed, and lowered her eyes.

"It makes sense," she murmured.

"He stresses. He freaks himself out. I don't think the fact that he didn't reveal your relationship meant he didn't love you, but he's so insanely private that he probably didn't even think it was an option," he replied, pushing her gently to consider what he was saying. He probably wouldn't have another opportunity to try to make her reconsider, so he had to do it well. "So you're thinking of leaving Sydney again?" he questioned curiously.

"Uh, yeah," she muttered with a distracted nod.

"Well, things will be easier when you're in different countries," Chase figured with a comforting smile. She gave a strained sort of grimace.

"I suppose so," she muttered.

"So, the tattoos? Give us a look, you've unwrapped them now, right?" he questioned, gesturing to her arms.

"Oh, sure," she said, passing him Noah, and rolling up her sleaves. "I got really hipster crap. Still cost me a fortune for the five," she explained with a shrug, thrusting her slim wrists before him, where bracelets and bangles dangled cheerfully.

"Cute," he smiled, glancing over the cameo-like black silhouettes now embedded on her skin. On the left was a woman, who was turned to face the man on her right. "Any meaning?" he questioned.

"I've been told that the left side represents woman, and the right masculinity," she explained, and if he wasn't mistaken, a flicker of pain passed over her dark eyes. "Um, and then I got Owl from 'Winnie the Pooh' on one hip for 'Eerin', and then Calcifer, the fire demon from 'Howl's Moving Castle' on the other for 'Kimba'," she continued, standing up, and pulling up her plain black singlet top, revealing a slither of white skin stretched too tightly over hip bones that jutted awkwardly.

"Very sweet," he chuckled, trying not to be concerned about her incredibly tiny waist, as she took a seat once more. "And you got another?" he questioned. She managed a small smile.

"That's not healed yet. It was a spur of the moment thing. I might get it removed, but... I don't know. I didn't think when I got it," she explained weakly, her cheeks flushing.

"Where is it?"

"Back of my neck," she informed him, turning her head and sliding up the leopard-print scarf that was tied around her short hair, revealing a small white bandage. "But there are a few more that I want. I've made an appointment for a treble clef and a bass clef to go behind my ears, and I'm trying to think of something for my ankle. And then the side of my neck, and maybe something for my arms," she continued with a broad smile that looked slightly forced.

"You sound like you're going to get addicted," Chase said warily, bobbing Noah gently in his arms. Eerin shrugged.

"I've always wanted tattoos, and I'm finally old enough and unattached enough to get whatever I want," she replied firmly. He sighed, and nodded.

"Alright. You can do what you want, Eerin. It's your life, it's your body," he muttered, but his disappointment was clear. "You know, everyone cares about you. We're worried," he informed her suddenly. She rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm a big girl now," she snapped.

"Do you honestly think that by cutting your hair and getting tattoos and planning trips to strange countries you're going to forget him?" he questioned incredulously. She scowled at the table in anger, but did not reply. "It just seems childish to me. If you don't love him then just let it die, don't starve yourself and cover your body with tattoos and ignore everyone you know," he advised firmly.

"Chase, you're a good brother-in-law, but after all the shit that's happened this year, this is the last thing I need," she declared, rising from her chair and making to leave, her face pale with anger.

"It seems to me that you still love him, Rin. I'm no expert, but that's what I think," he shrugged. She stopped, shaking slightly, and gave a bitter laugh.

"Is this just some sort of heart-felt advice, or are you asking me a question? Are you telling me to do something, Chase?" she demanded. He stared at her thoughtfully.

"Yes. I'm asking if you still love him, and what you intend to do about it if you do," he replied simply, after a long, pregnant pause.

"I hope this answers your question," she snapped, turning her neck and pulling her headscarf and bandage off quickly.

In beautiful black lettering was the word '_William_', written so lovingly and with such care that Chase didn't really know what to say.

"That's the only answer you're going to get, because from now on, we don't talk about this, Chase. It's over, and that's all anyone needs to know," she snapped, before grabbing her bag from the table and storming out of the kitchen and then out of the house as Noah fidgeted unhappily.

So, talking to her hadn't worked out as well as he thought it would.

**A/N: Angst, angst, angst. Lordie I can't write a fic without it. **

**Eerin's tattoo designs are the tattoos that I want, except for Owl and Calcifer. Although I wouldn't mind them. But I have to wait til I move out for tattoos, so I might never get them :( Anyhoo, I had a lovely birthday party in which I received several tea sets (one was a Beauty and the Beast Mrs Pots tea set, and it speaks! It goes so well with my Disney Princess kitchen) and an abundance of Disney related gifts, so I'm a happy camper. This story is winding down to a close. There will be forty-five chapters, plus an epilogue. So it's almost done, my dears! **

**I said before that I think this story and L'Ange Noir will be my last big fics. And they might. But as most of you can see, I'm really repeating myself by this stage, and I think I need a new, original approach. Fanfiction is good practise for me, so I might continue with it. We'll see how it works. **

**-Evie**


	43. Of Eerin and Eros

"_Let hope pass, let dreams pass, let them die,_

_Without you, what are they for?_

_I always feel no more than halfway real,_

_Till I hear you sing once more,_"

-Andrew Lloyd Webber, 'Till I Hear You Sing'

Hope wasn't an emotion that Darcy had ever had a lot of. Hope was just a vague little feeling that came about every now and then that was usually, on his part, followed by disappointment. It was what Pandora had left in her box when she wreaked havoc upon mankind; and in his experience, it was far more dangerous than any of the curses the Gods had given her.

In general, he didn't like hope, because he didn't like disappointment, which was made all the more painful by any sort of optimism. When Eerin left he lost all hope. He was just getting used to returning to his old life of loneliness when Chase just _had_ to sit down with him over a cup of tea and attempt a man-to-man discussion.

When Chase had related the course of his conversation with Eerin and the resulting revelations, Darcy was at first angry. Because he knew the familiar feeling that was rising up in his chest; he had experienced hope before, so it was not completely foreign. He just wished that he didn't have to feel it, because everything he knew told him that any expectation was unfounded.

So what if she got a tattoo of his name? Knowing her, it could also be the name of whichever rock star or novelist or actor she was obsessed with that week.

So what if she accepted that he never slept with Carol? That didn't excuse him from any of the preceding or following events.

Her arguments against him were valid. He hadn't fought for her, not really. Not as much as he could, and he regretted that, but the time had passed when he could have revealed Carol to the world as the black-mailing, vindictive woman she truly was and abandon the repercussions on his profession and reputation. There weren't really any grand, sweeping, romantic gestures he could make now to get her back, no matter what she thought of him.

He did his very best to be realistic about things, but much to his chagrin, he couldn't help the feeling of... well, _hope_.

What if she still loved him? What if there was still time for him to fix the mistakes he had made? What if he could still fight for her, and she would in return fight for him?

"You had to complicate things for me, didn't you," Darcy grimaced, glancing across the table on Chase's balcony to see his friend giving him a consoling smile.

"I think you might still have a chance. But I can't really say, you know her better than I do," he shrugged. Darcy sighed, and buried his head in his hands. "What'll you do?" he questioned carefully, after a long silence had passed between them.

"Sleep on it. Try not to get too optimistic, I can't handle another rejection," he muttered, his voice muttered by his fingers as he gave a low, tired groan. "I almost wish you hadn't talked to her. I was coming to terms with this. I might have been able to survive," he managed to get out with only slight anger, sending an annoyed glance over to his friend.

"Almost?"

"Well, you've made me realise that I'm not ready to give up on her yet," he shrugged tiredly, rising to his feet. "I'll think about it. I don't know what I'm going to do," he decided, before giving his goodbyes and leaving without another word, his mind in turmoil.

He drove home, ate a little and drank more, before collapsing into bed early, unable to process his options.

He couldn't get past that damned feeling of _hope_.

* * *

"Seriously, you have to slow down with all of these tats," Carmen commented to Eerin as she spun round aimlessly in the red leather chair by a small station in the Merryton Hills tattoo parlour.

"I've wanted them for ages, it's not like this was a spur-of-the-moment thing," Eerin drawled in reply, peering at the outline of her next tattoo on her ankle in the nearby mirror. "Do you think this should be a little bigger?" she questioned, glancing back to her friend.

"I think it should be a little less miserable, but that's just me," she retorted dryly, glancing over the beautiful lettering winding around Eerin's ankle. "_'So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.'_. Deep, but too angsty for my liking," she commented, leaning back in the chair.

"It's Fitzgerald. He's allowed to be angsty," Eerin retorted, smiling as the tattoo artist appeared.

"How are the others going? They've healed up now?" he asked her politely as he tied back his dreadlocks.

"They've all come up great. Unfortunately, I seem to have a tendency to pick the most painful places," Eerin laughed, sitting up on the bench and pulling up her jeans.

"That's alright, shows you're brave," he grinned, taking his seat, and preparing the ink. "How did the last one come up? Did the redness fade?" he enquired, as Eerin tilted back her neck to display the little green cricket just beneath the name 'William' on the back of her neck.

"I'm running out of places where they're not too obvious," she laughed, when he checked it over quickly and gave her a thumbs up for approval.

"Well, see how you like this one and then maybe give it a while before you get another," he suggested, as she positioned herself to sit comfortably for the length of the tattooing. She winced slightly as the sound of buzzing filled the room, and she rested her head back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Seriously, Rin, you've been acting really weirdly. The tattoos, the whole 'barely-talking' thing, it's not you," Carmen said with concern, looking up to her friend, who shrugged lightly. "I mean, I know that we've been kind of out of it for the past few months, but I feel like there's this huge thing you're just not telling me, and I reckon I have a right to know," she insisted. Eerin gave a long, slow sigh.

"I was with someone, and now I'm not. That's pretty much all there is to it, Car," she assured her friend, glaring upwards in determination to distract herself from the needle.

"That'd be it if I were a four-year-old, but I'm your best friend, Rin. Or at least I thought I was," Carmen accused almost bitterly. Eerin managed a grimace.

"It's a really long story, and I really don't think I can talk about it yet. Please, just give me a little longer to get over things properly," she requested softly. Carmen sighed, and nodded.

"Fine. But you're not getting another tattoo until you tell me," she insisted pointedly. Eerin raised a brow.

"Can you really stop me?" she challenged with a laugh.

"I know you, Rin. And I know that there's something going on that you either can't deal with, or don't want to deal with," Carmen threw back. "So getting tattoos is now your fix. I wouldn't care, but these are permanent things, you shouldn't be doing this in spite," she added firmly.

"No spite here. Only a fancy for cartoon characters, literature and weird hipster symbols," Eerin chirped cheerfully. Carmen stared at her friend in disbelief.

"You know, I reckon you've changed," she said suddenly. "Not just the hair and the tats. You're different, and I don't know if I like it," she muttered thoughtfully.

Eerin didn't respond.

"Well? Aren't you going to argue with me?" she demanded with growing frustration. Eerin shrugged.

"What could I possibly say to something like that, Car?" she questioned lightly, playing with the sleaves of her jumper. "Yeah, maybe I have. If you don't like it, then you wouldn't be the first to try to lecture me about it, but I'm over everyone's advice and D and Ms. I'm not doing this to hurt anyone," she snapped.

Carmen scowled at nothing in particular, trying to arrange her thoughts. It occurred to her that she was being selfish; she wanted Eerin to be the same because that was what worked best for her. She liked the cheerful, fun and slightly insecure Eerin Beaumont who was always good for a laugh and fun to hang out with, who listened to problems and helped people laugh them off with such ease.

It hadn't really occurred to Carmen before that perhaps Eerin would have her own problems. Perhaps she'd _had_ her own problems, but they went by unnoticed. She was increasingly aware of the fact that she didn't know Eerin as well as she thought she had, the Eerin she knew was more a creature of her own invention.

The tattoo suddenly made sense.

'_So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.'_

Because it wasn't just moving on, it was starting from scratch, and it was fighting onwards. That was the Eerin that had been by her side since they were children, but it had taken far too long to realise who she was.

Carmen knew what she should do. She should smile cheerfully and just say 'you're right, Rin, I'm an idiot. So what about the other ankle?'

But maybe Carmen had changed too. And maybe she was selfish, but she didn't want this new, insecure Eerin on her hands – she couldn't handle the burden. She wasn't like Eerin, she didn't have that capacity to support and accept. She just couldn't do it.

"I forgot. I have to pick up Bill from uni," she announced suddenly, her voice plain and unaffected by any sincerity. Eerin met her eyes and held her gaze for a moment, with a hint of pain and desperation. Carmen sniffed slightly, and rose to her feet. "I'll see you around, Rin," she said finally, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Yeah. See you."

But both of them knew that it wasn't going to happen. Carmen left she shop without turning back.

* * *

It was raining.

Darcy's jog came to a stop as he felt the first icy cold droplets hit the back of his neck. He took a deep breath as he felt the temperature drop suddenly; he could almost taste it on the air. He found himself with his back pressed against the wall of his apartment building as the sky darkened and he felt the beads of sweat mingle with that of the rain over his body, which was shaking with some sort of emotion he just couldn't name.

Everything monumental in his life happened when it was raining. He lost his parents on a rainy morning, he tried to crash a helicopter, Ana was taken from him, he met Eerin and then he lost Eerin as the rain pelted down – but what could he expect? She was born of a storm.

And he hated it. He hated the pathetic fallacy of his life, he hated that he could always tell when something was going to change. Something was going to shift. It was more than the rain – he could feel it. But nothing could possibly happen to make his life any worse.

So he tried to push it from his mind as he showered, dressed and drove to the university for a morning lecture. He was trying to ignore that annoying sense of hope that Chase had filled him with the night before after their conversations, but he was finding it almost impossible.

He felt a familiar tightening in his chest as students filled the room – he was looking for her. For a moment he was frightened that she wasn't there, that something had happened, something that the rain had signalled, but finally she slipped in behind the lines of students, her head lowered, eyes refusing to meet his. His heart sunk in his chest; he just wanted her to look at him. She _never_ looked at him, not anymore.

"Open your textbooks to page 386. A study of Love and Kinship," he muttered, taking a seat behind his desk. He heard the general ruffle of pages and laptops turning on as his class prepared themselves.

He glanced up to see her in her usual place – front row, dead centre. Only this time, unlike the past few months, she was smiling and laughing with one of her friends sitting behind her, Sean, or something like that. She looked like she just didn't care, like her life hadn't been capsized. He lowered his eyes down to his own laptop before plugging in AV cables and turning on the projector. The wall was filled with an image of angels surrounding a happy couple. He hated it.

"As your last essays on Eros in mythological art were terrible, I've decided to run you through some of the symbols of love," he declared, as a vague rumble of annoyance was heard throughout the class. "Can anyone tell me what the cornucopia, the laurel wreath, the olive branch, and the chains symbolise?" he questioned his class.

No response.

He changed the slide. It was going to be a long lesson.

"Courtly love, romantic love, fraternal love, platonic love, filial love, sexual love, all these are shown throughout art, literature and culture, and should be recognisable by you by this stage in the course," he continued, as the picture turned to a photo of a bouquet of red roses. "What is this?"

"Courtly love?" someone called out.

"Wrong. Although roses are used to woo females, they represent eternal love and affection. Romantic," he snapped.

He had given Eerin a rose, once, when they were in France he handed her a beautiful long-stepped red rose before they went out for dinner. He had hoped she would understand what he was trying to say – but now, perhaps an apologetic bouquet of hydrangeas would be more fitting.

"This?"

"Uhh... feet?" someone chuckled.

"Women's feet – ideally white, narrow and with a high arch, are a symbol of sexuality in Renaissance literature," he corrected sharply.

He recalled the evening where they lay curled up on his settee, her feet in his lap, his thumb gently running over the tiny, fragile bones beneath the surface of her soft skin, before he leant over to kiss her knees and make her laugh.

"Eyes?"

"Uhh... windows to the soul?" someone offered sheepishly.

"To a degree, they're considered channels of emotion. Disease. What is this associated with?" he questioned, his tone growing brisk and cold as he tried not to meet Eerin's dark eyes, to see all the hatred she must have for him. Or, if he were to believe Chase, perhaps there really _was_ a lingering sense of love there.

"Sexual love? Infidelity?"

"Wrong. Romantic, passionate love is often described as being a 'torment' or 'disease', rendering the individual unable to sleep or eat," he answered, changing the slide.

Loving Eerin was like a disease.

"Marriage? Purity?"

"Wrong, doves represent lovers because of their monogamous mating habits," he corrected, changing the image from a pair of fluffy white doves to an engagement ring on a slender female finger. "Why is this the finger wedding rings are worn on?" he demanded.

His mind strayed to the engagement set sitting by his bed in his flat. He'd just left it there, not wanting to send it back to the vault in Switzerland or to Pemberley. He didn't think it belonged in some old safe; it belonged on Eerin's finger.

No one responded to his question. Feeling emblazoned with anger, he spoke.

"Miss Beaumont? I believe you referenced this in your essay. Please explain the significance of wearing a ring on this finger," he demanded shortly. She glanced up with an unreadable expression. He never called upon her in a lecture, it was just unheard of for any professor to do so in such a large class.

"The Romans and the Egyptians used to believe the vein in that finger was connected to the heart, and wearing a ring would symbolise the linking of lover's hearts," she replied, before swallowing rather obviously, and glaring at the wall behind him. "And Christian priests would count the Holy Trinity from the thumb, ending up at the ring finger to symbolise unification," she added quietly.

"And what would it mean, hypothetically, if I were to give you a _claddagh_?" he questioned, perhaps a little coldly. He'd once signed one of their many love letters with one.

"It – it's a token of love, or it could mean –" she stopped herself, her voice caught. "It could symbolise marriage. It's normally in the form of a ring, with two hands holding a crowned heart," she answered, steadying herself as much as she could.

"And if it were not in the form of a ring? If, persay, someone had signed a letter with an image of one?"

"I – It's a symbol of love and marriage. So it could symbolise a state of – of engagement, or promise. A promise of marriage," she managed to answer, but her voice was soft and quiet.

"And who would I give this to?" he questioned, changing the slide to an image of a small silver brooch in the shape of a crowned heart.

"It's – uh, it's Scottish. You would give it to your bride on – on your wedding day, and then it would be pinned to the blanket of your first child," she replied. He could swear there was a hint of tears in her dark eyes. He knew he should stop, but he just couldn't.

"And what is a bow and arrow representative of?"

"Uh – it – it means tension. Sexual tension and desire. It is commonly seen in images of Eros as a cupid," she mumbled, red faced.

"And what would I be trying to say, Miss Beaumont, if I gave you a seashell?"

"Protection. To – To give a lover a seashell means you want to protect them."

"Can you give a reason for the connotations of romance for chocolate?" he demanded curtly.

"Chocolate is an aphrodisiac. Shouldn't you be asking someone else these questions?" she snapped finally, her eyes alight with that familiar fire he loved, but they glistened with tears.

"If I ask a question in this classroom, you are compelled to answer it as best you can," he snapped curtly. "And besides, who else in this classroom can tell me what a ruby symbolises?" he questioned, glancing around the room. No one responded, they were all too busy watching the altercation going on between the teacher and his student.

"Passion, sexual desire and power. And it's not fair to just ask _me_ the questions," she objected.

"Miss Beaumont, I hardly think you're in a position to say what is 'fair'," he practically growled. Eerin ran a trembling hand through her dark hair. "Jasmine."

"Commitment. And it's not difficult to realise that you're being cruel for the sake of cruelty," she threw back angrily.

"I only do unto others as has been done unto me," he retorted bitterly. She gave a choked sort of sigh that might have been a sob, and wiped her now shimmering cheeks.

"Do you _really_ want to get into this kind of argument here, _Professor_?"

"Yes, I _do_, because contrary to your belief – I don't give a damn about consequences," he snapped, turning off the slide show and slamming his laptop shut.

"Are we still talking about symbols?" came a dumb sort of question from the third row. A rumble of whisperings passed through the classroom.

"Professor Darcy, can we just get on with the lecture?" Eerin demanded angrily, glaring up at him with steely resolve.

"Read through that chapter and make notes, I want to be able to discuss these connotations with you when I return," Darcy announced, rising to his feet. "Miss Beaumont, if you would please spare a few minutes, I believe there is a pressing issue we need to discuss," he snapped.

Eerin scowled, but reluctantly rose to her feet and followed him out of the classroom.

"What are you playing at?" she demanded the moment they were standing outside the lecture theatre, a few students standing outside of the café looking on with curiosity.

"If you're looking for proof that I don't care about my job, that it's _you_ I want, then it all ends here. I'll announce it to the world right now," Darcy stated before she could continue with another word. She stepped back in surprise.

"What's gotten into you? You're teaching a _class_," she hissed, hazarding a careful glance to the door of the classroom, where students were peering out to watch the altercation.

"You spoke to Chase a few days ago," he said breathlessly. "I know you got my name tattooed on your neck. Please, Eerin, if you didn't still love me you wouldn't have done that," he insisted, taking a step forwards, causing her to step back again. "He's made me hope, Eerin. I thought I had lost you completely, but... please, let me do this, let me pick you and you'll never regret it, I swear," he practically begged.

"If you really wanted this, you would have done it months ago," she muttered quietly, crossing her arms against her chest, and walking away from the door so they were out of sight of the students in the lecture theatre and those standing by the café.

"I didn't know _what_ to do then. I told Carol I didn't care about my job, but you refused to speak to me. I thought _you _cared more about my job than I did," he explained, following her quickly. "You were pushing me away, Eerin, what could I do? But that doesn't matter now," he insisted desperately. "I'll go to the head of the university right this minute and tell him everything. We can –"

"William, please. Don't throw your life away for me. You've spent almost twenty years building this up, I won't let you throw it away just forme," she whispered, before turning heel and walking back into the classroom, where the students were murmuring excitedly about their argument. She hurriedly took her seat and looked down at her textbook before he could really speak.

He walked into the lecture theatre slowly, his eyes glued to her as he headed down the stairs. Everything was coming to him in a flood of emotion.

Now or never, he decided, before speaking.

"I think this is the most appropriate moment to inform you all that I will be resigning from my position here at the university," he announced to the classroom. "I don't know when I'll be giving my last lecture, so I'm sorry for the inconvenience. But it's necessary," he continued, as his students gasped and whispered and stared in disbelief.

Eerin didn't raise her head, but he knew she had heard. There was something about her tense shoulders that told him.

"Were you fired?" someone questioned, a little louder than the others. He shook his head.

"No. Unfortunately, this position has caused difficulties in my personal life, and in the interest of my partner I will be stepping back. As I said, arrangements will be made and I believe the course can be taught by another professor for the remainder of the term," he assured them all obligingly.

"So much for the first 'Symbology and Iconography' class in Australia," Bethany Lawrence muttered bitterly.

"So you're quitting because of your girlfriend?" another student exclaimed with obvious annoyance. Darcy gave a sympathetic shrug.

"I'm very sorry, but I love her far too much to let her come second to my job," he informed them all simply with a tiny smile.

"That's so sweet."

"So, you're not going to balance relationships and work, sir?" Eerin questioned finally, looking up at him with tears in her dark eyes that were unseen by the rest of the classroom.

"Well, Miss Beaumont, to be perfectly honest, she's quit a handful. It's a full-time job in itself to love her, and I think she's been feeling a little underappreciated," he answered with a growing smile. Eerin tried to bite back a laugh as he spoke. "So, fingers crossed she still fancies me when I no longer have a class of unfocused could-be symbolists to deal with, and she has to put up with seeing me on a constant basis," he drawled with a tiny smirk, moving behind the podium once more.

He tried to meet her eyes, but she was staring at her textbook with sudden determination. But he didn't care if it would still come to nothing that he had now effectively ended his career. He should have done it a long time ago.

"And now, back to this class and your pathetic essays. So, for the next hour I'm going to explain how you all failed so miserably, and you had better take notes and learn from this," he announced, fighting a smile as he turned back to his laptop, and a groan was heard throughout the theatre.

* * *

As if it were an unstated agreement between the two, Eerin waited after the class had finished to speak with him. He gave her a tentative smile from across the room as he packed up his things, and was met with the usual half a dozen students who wanted to ask questions about the lecture. She swung her bag over her shoulder and stepped up towards him with a strong blush on her cheeks, and waited until they were alone on the theatre.

"I can't believe you did that," she murmured quietly, lowering her dark eyes. She suddenly looked very nervous.

"I made the choice for you. Being with me won't make things worse, Eerin. You're not ruining me or destroying my career, and I think you pushed me away because you thought you would be," he said thoughtfully, sitting on the edge of his desk as she nervously played with her cardigan sleeves. "Is that because you like sharing it with me? You want to be a part of that?" he questioned carefully. She gave an awkward shrug.

"I love what you do. But that's not the reason why I love you," she said softly, still not looking up. "I didn't want you to give all of that up because I know how much you love it, and you shouldn't have to choose between me and everything you've worked so hard to achieve," she explained awkwardly, finally glancing up to meet his eyes.

He was smiling.

"I – if you do this, if you tell the head of the university the truth, then you're going to lose a hell of a lot more than your job, Darcy, and I _can't_ be the one to take that away from you," she insisted finally, feeling slightly perturbed as his eyes twinkled with his familiar spark that she had missed so much.

"Oh, God, you're so adorable sometimes," he sighed, his smile growing steadily. "You silly little thing. I was ready to give this up for you all along; you wouldn't be taking anything from me. And besides, this is done now," he informed her softly, stepping forwards and cupping her cheek. She felt tears sting her eyes as she instinctively turned into his hand with a pained sort of sigh.

"I – I'm not _silly_," she defended, her voice little more than a whimper. She pulled away. "Why didn't you do this before, then? You could have ended this ages ago," she insisted, hugging herself with lithe arms and staring at him accusingly.

"I told Carol that she could reveal everything, although she never did. I _said_ I didn't care, but I couldn't get into contact with you to do this any other way," he shrugged. "I believed... I _honestly_ believed that I needed to publically reveal our relationship in order to be together, but I was thinking too big, and we couldn't shout it to the heavens when you refused to speak to me anyway," he explained slowly, thinking over his words. "I thought you didn't love me anymore, because of Victor. And because of everything I've put you through," he sighed. She gave a frustrated sigh.

"_I_ did this?" she questioned incredulously, wiping her dark eyes.

"No, I believe we both did," he chuckled, with a long sigh of relief. "Anyway, there's something I haven't told you, anyway. I dismissed it originally, because nothing was set in stone, and I didn't want to leave you, but... well, it could be an answer to some of our problems," he explained slowly. She looked up to meet his eyes.

"What is it?" she demanded.

"I have an old friend from Oxford who went over to Cambridge a few years ago, he was one of my mentors when I first started teaching," he began slowly. "And... well, he's now head of the faculty there, and he said there would always be a door open for me to start this course in Cambridge," he explained. "I was going to decline. I couldn't imagine leaving you. But – it's an option. We could go back together, get away from all of this," he added with a slight shrug.

"I don't know," she replied honestly, lowering her head. "It's too fast, I don't know," she repeated quietly.

"That's alright. I know it seems a little... soon, but it wouldn't be for a while," he assured her, reaching for her hands. "But I'm out of order. I think it's about time I did something right," he began meaningfully, meeting her dark hazel eyes with his intensely green ones. "Eerin, Lord... I know the situation hasn't been the easiest," he murmured gently.

"That's an understatement," she replied with a teasing laugh. He rolled his eyes.

"Well, it's been a bit of a challenge for both of us. A learning experience, I suppose," he replied, his tone still soft and careful. "You said once to me that we haven't gone through enough together to get married. And I understand, but...things are different now," he trailed off with a tiny smile. Eerin stared at him in disbelief.

"You're not..."

"I am. Will you marry me?" he asked tentatively. "I can go down on one knee, if you want. Only the ring is back in my flat, I didn't anticipate this situation today," he added quickly, searching her face for any response. When she didn't reply, he began to grow anxious. "Eerin? Will you?" he repeated.

She stepped away.

"No. No, I'm sorry," she answered quietly. He felt his jaw drop slightly, and something large and painful immediately rose up in his throat, the threat of tears stinging at the back of his eyes.

"Oh. Well, I suppose... I shouldn't have expected..." he muttered pathetically, trying to manage a smile or a laugh or something to show he wasn't completely devastated.

"I've just spent three months separated from you, Will. I can't... I can't just jump into an engagement. You shouldn't expect that of me," she insisted firmly, suddenly looking completely swamped in her clothes, in the room, in herself. "I still have a lot to learn. So do you. Give it time, William. I need _time_," she practically begged.

Darcy nodded, and felt a genuine smile on his lips, however small it was.

"I understand. It just upsets me that we were so close to marriage and then... well, I suppose we have all the time in the world, anyway," he sighed, not unhappily. "Alright. I'm going to go speak to the Vice-Chancellor and hand in my resignation. Then I'm going home. It's completely your decision, but I'd like to see you there," he said meaningfully, as he turned and collected the last of his papers for that class.

"Umm. Yes. I – I think we need to talk," she replied softly, wiping her remaining tears away with her cardigan sleeve. He gave her a smile, and then swung his laptop bag over his shoulder and made to leave the classroom. "William?" she questioned suddenly, causing him to stop, and turn around.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For doing this," she murmured quietly, sending him a shy glance behind her dark fringe and reading glasses. He nodded.

"Not a problem," he called, turning once more to leave the room. She released a long, deep sigh when he finally disappeared from her vision, her heart thumping.

"Did I just get back together with him?" she asked herself softly, running a hand through her hair. She had absolutely no idea about where they were at that stage.

"Eerin?" she heard a voice call from the doorway, and she turned back to come face-to-face with Darcy, who was looking down at her with a broad smile.

And then, he kissed her.

Not the tentative or tender kisses they had shared in the past, not that soft and heartbreaking kiss in the hospital room six weeks ago or their hesitant first few kisses at the beach; this was just as powerful and passionate as the way he had kissed her for the first time in that very classroom so many months ago, and that thought sent a quick thrill right through her as she opened her mouth, much to his delight. She felt his strong hands sliding over her shoulders, down her sides to the small of her back and across her hips as she struggled to find a single bit of him to hold on to when all her hands wanted to do was recall those familiar lines and curves that she once knew so well.

They parted breathlessly after a few minutes, lips swollen and breathing heavily as their bodies trembled at the reawaken sensations. He flashed her one of his most charming smiles, his eyes twinkling cheerfully.

"I would say that if we didn't get back together five minutes ago, we certainly did then. See you this afternoon," he smiled, giving her a wink and then turning and slipping out of the building.

Eerin just stared after him.

God, she loved that man.

**A/N: For about a month, when I was first writing this fic, this was the end. I didn't feel like it needed anything else, because not all stories need to have those neat, tidy little endings. But as I thought about it, I realised that there are too many things left open-ended, so there are still two more chapters. But effectively, it's pretty much over. Not to say that the next two chapters aren't worth reading, but it all depends on whether or not you're sick of me yet :D**

**Icyblossom: Your review really surprised me. I wouldn't have called Eerin a 'selfish brat', but then again, I wrote her, so I suppose I'm biased. I also don't believe 'all this drama was caused by her'; I don't think she helped the situation, but she didn't exactly encourage her professor to fall in love with her, his cousin to attempt to rape her and Carol to blackmail them. I don't get what you mean by 'she has done nothing to prove her life so what right does she have to ask him to give up everything?' for two reasons, primarily because it doesn't make sense, you can't 'prove' your life, and secondly because she never actually asked Darcy to give up everything. In fact, she discourages it. All she does it point out that he didn't do it by himself earlier on; even though he had said several times that he would be glad to give up his career for her. So perhaps she's guilt-tripping him, but that's not the same. **


	44. Of Childhood and Changes

"_Together again, it would feel so good to be, in your arms,_

_Where all my journeys end, if you can make a promise to me,_

_If it's one that you can keep, I vow to come to you,_

_If you'll wait for me, say you'll hold a place for me in your heart,_"

-Tracy Chapman, 'The Promise'

Eerin was officially nervous.

"I feel like I should... warn you, or something," she muttered thoughtfully, staring out the window of Darcy's car with purpose. He chuckled.

"I _have_ met your parents before, you know," he reminded her. She waved him off.

"You barely spoke to Mum, and you had one awkward conversation with my Dad," she reminded him. He hid a smirk at her adorable nervousness. "They're... well, it'll probably be a bit of a crucible, particularly considering that they still hate you for leaving me miserable for three months and then kidnapping me for almost three months more," she added.

"Darling."

She shivered slightly at that, without knowing why, because he'd been calling her that for quite some time, ever since 'my dear' became taboo, but somehow it still thrilled her with its familiarity. It was one of the many small changes that had occurred within the past few months, and was definitely one of her favourites.

"I've resigned myself to never being liked by your family, so there's no point in warning me," Darcy announced, ending her musings. She sighed, and nodded, sinking down slightly in the passenger seat of Darcy's BMW. "But it's all over now. We can tell whoever we want, we can be as open as we wish, and your family is the first step," he continued.

"I'm just worried they're going to send you running," she confessed. He gave a small smile.

"Hardly likely. I've been putting up with you for a year now in one way or the other, and I think I've proved that nothing in the world can induce me to leaving you," he returned. There was a sense of casualness to this statement that made the comment seem light, but after all that had occurred between them, she knew the truth of his words.

The last few months had been absolutely, completely and totally crazy.

The first bit of madness had occurred when Darcy attempted to quit his job. After a long and rather unsuccessful conversation with the Vice-Chancellor, it had been decided that Darcy's contract with the university would continue until the end of the semester, as planned, but he would not return in 2011. And after his display in the middle of a lecture full of students, the University of Sydney certainly didn't want him to come back. They agreed that as long as Darcy left quietly at the end of the year, the university would keep quiet about the reasons for his resignation. 

This had led to a great deal of other incidents – Eerin particularly recalled a conversation (or rather shouting match) between Darcy and his Aunt Catherine over the phone, and then another with Darcy's mentor Dr. Alistair Randolph from Cambridge, who was the reason for Darcy getting the job at Sydney in the first place. He did not relate the subject of these disagreements with Eerin, so all she knew was that Darcy had made up with Alistair, but was very close to taking a restraining order on his aunt.

The second piece of madness was their rather strange conversation the when he returned back to the familiar flat after Darcy's meeting with the Vice-Chancellor, which began with Boots attempting to kill Eerin (probably as retribution for abandoning her for so many months), before leading to far too many tears to be respectable, and a five-hour meal that was topped off with a bottle of Polish vodka. Suffice to say, it was much more of a screaming match for the first few hours than it was a conversation, and although there were issues remaining that would take longer than a single evening to resolve, Eerin hadn't gone back to the shire since then.

When things started to settle down, Ana descended upon them for a month, which led to more tears and more screaming, and then the closest thing to a real family life that any of them had really had a chance to experience. And somewhere during that time, Eerin had graduated with her Bachelor of Arts degree, and was now facing the difficult decision of taking her Honours certificate at Sydney, or at a university in England.

And now, the term had just ended and they were driving to the Shire for their first 'family dinner'. Eerin was quite sure there would be tension – she had been driving her family mad over the past few months with her constantly changing living arrangements and relationship status, and she couldn't expect her family to understand that despite all that had happened between her and Darcy; they loved each other more than they ever had before.

"Just... prepare yourself. You know what they're like."

"You know, you don't need to worry so much. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle myself," he insisted, fighting laughter.

"Well I can just see it right now, Mum in tears, wailing about how ashamed of me she is, Dad drinking and sprouting Wilde –"

"Wilde?"

"Oh, Dad's a bit gay, by the way. Forgot to tell you," she said suddenly, sitting up, as if in attention. "Well, not literally, he doesn't like men. He just doesn't like anyone. But he _is _alcoholic," she added hastily. "And Maiya isn't really gay, but she hates _all_ men, particularly Dad," she began to list.

"I'm beginning to understand why you liked women," Darcy drawled.

"Everyone in that house is pretty sex-obsessed in one way or another. Maiya's hatred of men is a bit of a fetish for her, and Leena and Kylie are always making rude jokes, so they'll probably try to get you naked within the first half-hour," she continued. "And Mum, too. And she'll probably list the ways in which I'm a failure and try to get you to go for Leena, instead," she added.

"Eerin, you –"

"And Dad does this thing where he goes from dry and teasing to deadly serious in about three seconds, and most of the time it scares the shit out of visitors."

"Eerin, darling, you're –"

"And make sure you're not alone with him. Because he'll do that 'man-to-man' chat, he's been working on it for years but he's never had a chance to try it out on anyone. You didn't give him enough time to work on it at the wedding, so he's really looking forwards to it," she babbled. Darcy sighed, and sharply pulled the car over onto the side of the road, before pressing a firm and silencing kiss to her mouth. "Woah... uh, do you always drive like this?" she questioned with a somewhat giddy laugh, murmuring against his lips.

"I love you. And I love you a hell of a lot more than any men-hating family members and wailing parents could overcome, no matter how many 'man-to-man' chats I have to endure," he said firmly. "So _stop worrying_. It's going to be fine," he assured her. She sighed, and finally nodded, sinking back into the chair, her knees pressed up against the glove compartment.

"You're right. I'm just... nervous," she muttered finally. He smiled gently.

"Why?" he questioned, his voice soft.

"Because... well, you're more important to me than anything I – I just don't want them to scare you off. And I don't want you to hate my family or my family to hate you," she confessed. He smoothed a stray lock of her still-short but no longer randomly red hair back with soft hands.

"That's quite alright. But I won't be frightened off by your family, and I'll do my best to love and be loved by them," he assured her, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

"Well, as far as they're aware, you _did_ break my heart and then woo me over by quitting your job," she commented.

"The only way to woo a woman is to throw away your employment prospects. Now, we should probably get going again, or else we'll be late."

"Will?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you. Thank you for doing this," she said softly. He smiled, and pulled back onto the road.

"Quite alright, love. Anything for you," he replied, a pleased quirk to his lips and a decided sparkle in his evergreen eyes, as Eerin smiled and relaxed back into the seat.

The surroundings gradually turned from urban and city to what Eerin eloquently described as being 'the sticks', bushland, farmland, fields of cows, and such. The houses turned from apartments and terraces to suburban four bedroom cottages with white picket fences and brightly coloured Fisher Price cubby houses in the front yard.

"It's actually quite a lovely region, you know," he commented thoughtfully, as he glanced over the side of the road to see the sun reflected beautifully across a huge damn, from which about five dozen cows were now drinking.

"Yeah, it gets a little dull when you're in the wrong bit. It's good in the towns, but out in the sticks it's a different story," she replied with a shrug.

"And was that Merryton we just passed through?" he questioned. She laughed.

"No, we're almost there now, though. The Shire is a bit of a labyrinth, but this road leads straight past Merryton Downs, and then into the main town," she explained, nodding to the beginnings of civilisation he could spy over the hill.

"And do you see yourself living here for much longer?" he questioned, meaning his question to be light and teasing, and was glad when she laughed, when in truth he had another motive.

"As _if_. I love being near the bush, but that's about it. And Merryton Downs is the most boring place in the world."

"Speaking of which, how close are we?"

"Well, this is the National Park, about five or ten more kilometres and we'll get to the outskirts," she informed him, glancing out the window.

"How well do you know these woods?" he questioned curiously.

"We don't call them 'woods', this is the bush, Darcy," she replied laughingly. "But pretty well. I spend a lot of my free time walking around in them," she shrugged. "This used to be a swamp. Then some rich Sydney guy decided he wanted to settle down, build some fancy estate, just like in England. His old house is still around, they do tours and things, but it's falling apart now," she explained.

"You know, it's not that different from Derbyshire, really," he commented suddenly. She looked at him in surprise. "Well, it's much colder there, and there's a considerable difference in flora, but other than that... it's fundamentally the same sort of set up," he noted thoughtfully.

"How cold _is_ it in Derbyshire?"

"Not as cold as up the _very_ top of England, but it's nothing like here," he answered. "When – I mean, _were you_ to go there," she smiled slightly at his accidental use of the word 'when', "you would probably find it very difficult to adjust," he informed her, with concern.

"But I've got a fair bit of European blood in me, Will, and I like the cold," she laughed.

"Having been in Australia since February, I can safely say that if you're accustomed to this climate, a Derbyshire winter might just kill you," he warned. She sent him a comforting smile and rubbed his arm.

"Hey. I can handle it, Will. So one day, when I _do_ go check out Derbyshire, I'm sure I'll manage," she assured him. He smiled quietly, and turned his gaze back onto the road, not admitting that he often thought about how she would like to live in England. It was a conversation he was saving for later. "Alright, so if you look to your right, good sir, you can now see the beginnings of Sydney's favourite gated community, Merryton Downs," she announced, when they approached a high sandstone wall covered with moss and surrounded by trees on the side of the road.

"Is it actually gated?"

"Only at night. To keep the riff-raff out, you see," she laughed, in her best attempt at a snooty accent.

Darcy slowed his car and took in the scenery curiously as he turned into Merryton Downs, noting the elegant but definitely pretentious arch over the one road which led in and out of the community. It was quaint, with cobbled roads split by islands, native plans creeping over the sides and onto the roads, where bright green leaves were marked with tire treads. He thought it a little ridiculous that they had bothered with the plants, but kept quiet. The houses were very nice, though. They were all quite large and of a similar style and design, Federation with a hint of Victorian, with impeccable green gardens and imposing statues.

"I must say, it's not exactly where I would picture you growing up," he commented. Not that he had any other idea about where she could have been raised – but the area definitely had Fiona Beaumont written all over it; pretentious and overwhelming.

"Hmm. You're telling me," she replied, her eyes tracing over the large houses, as if she were now a stranger to it all. "I guess it was alright. Back before we got the pool and Dad stopped looking after the garden, we had an acre of just... grass. Really nice green grass, and big tall shady trees, and we kept ducks," she smiled softly. "And we always wore these tunics mum sewed for us, usually just out of calico, and we pretended we were ducks too. I have a lot of really nice memories of us all playing outside with the ducks in our identical dresses, and the trees felt like giants," she said, her voice sounding far off and nostalgic before she turned to him suddenly, and smiled.

He smiled back. That was something he could see as being a part of her childhood.

"I didn't know your mother was a seamstress."

"Well, she had to be. When Mum and Dad moved here they didn't have a lot of money, it cost so much to get this place that they had to scrimp and save wherever they could for years. It was nice, though, because she would make us whatever we wanted to wear," she explained, shrugging.

"This was before your mother opened the spa?"

"Yup, way before. She only started that... five years ago, maybe? She was a stay-at-home-mum before. There's a lot around here, so she wasn't alone," she continued thoughtfully, directing him through the narrow roads. "She was my favourite person in the world, then. She was warm, like you wouldn't believe; she would put us all in our play clothes and she'd sit outside, making quilts or knitting jumpers, watching us. But when we got older, that all changed," she sighed, a little sadly.

"Being a parent changes you," he commented, as if it were as simple as announcing the colour of the sky. She looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I wouldn't mind it, really."

"What?"

"Being a stay-at-home-mum. It's not like I couldn't work; I could write and research, it's a balancing act, I think," she announced. He smiled, and nodded. He had always pictured her as filling that role perfectly, but he had never wanted to say so, in case it would offend her. If she wanted to work, he was perfectly happy with that. If she wanted to stay at home, that was fine too. If she wanted to do both, even better.

"Well, we can get some ducks, then."

"And the grass," she smiled, her eyes twinkling with laughter.

"And the grass."

"And the trees?"

"Of course," he grinned, breaking into a laugh. She bit her lips against a smile, and announced the next turn. "Why have you stayed here so long, then?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Money. I never seem to have it, and when I do, I spend it on travelling."

"Well, when we marry, you won't have to endure this apparently 'boring' place any longer," he smiled to her.

"Hurry up and ask me a third time then, you bludger," she teased. He chuckled as she instructed him to turn into a driveway, leaving him unable to respond. Instead he just hid a secretive smile.

The house was a very wide single story with a very pretty garden out the front. It was very picturesque, the garden covered with flowers and trees and lush green grass. Ivy grew over the red-bricked walls and hung from the dark green gutters, framing the picture perfectly. It was a little run-down, but in a charming way.

"It's lovely," he complimented, when they stopped the car and got out.

"It's home," she laughed, taking his hand and walking up to the front door. He gripped her hand tightly, and she stopped, turning back to him. "Are you alright?" she questioned gently. He nodded.

"Fine, but... they _do_ think I broke your heart, with good reason, and they know I was your teacher up until yesterday," he shrugged lightly. "I'm not nervous, but... concerned," he admitted. She gave him a comforting smile.

"Hey, it'll be fine. Come on then, we'd best get this over with," she decided.

"Do we knock?" he questioned, glancing towards the fly-screen door that seemed to be a feature of all Australian houses.

"I live here," she reminded him, before looking thoughtful. "Actually, we'd best, because I haven't lived here for three months and Mum might have a fit if we walk in without announcing ourselves," she hummed, reaching for the doorbell.

It opened almost immediately, a beaming, eye-glinting Fiona Beaumont jumping forth.

"Oh, thank _goodness_ you're here! I was worried you might have gotten lost!" she exclaimed dramatically. Eerin rolled her dark eyes.

"No, Mum, I only live here," she muttered, stepping into the threshold.

"_Professor Darcy_, it's such a _pleasure_ to see you. I'm _so_ glad Eerin finally decided to bring you round, we've all been dying to meet you," she declared suddenly, grabbing him and practically forcing him into a tight hug, bruising each side of his face with her forceful lips before releasing him. He looked somewhat perturbed, and definitely psychologically scarred.

"Uh – It's a pleasure to see you too, Mrs Beaumont," he muttered. She waved him off immediately.

"Oh _nonsense_, call me Fiona, dear. Now let me give you a tour of the place," she urged him, pulling him through the hall. "Back there is the main bedroom and ensuite, and this is my new lounge room, I got decorating tips from _Better Homes and Gardens_," she explained immediately, gesturing widely around her. Eerin rolled her eyes as her boyfriend was dragged through the house. "This is the kitchen, brand new, you know!"

"It's lovely."

"And this is Jan's old room, but now it's my meditation and yoga room. Do you do yoga, Professor?" she enquired, gesturing to a door off the hall by the kitchen, before turning to him quickly with curious and wide eyes.

"It's just Darcy, and no, I don't, but I understand Eerin does," he answered politely.

"Oh, it's simply _wonderful_! Stretches out all your muscles, you know!" she cried dramatically, gripping his arm tightly.

"Ooh, the Professor is here!" came an excited squeal. One of Eerin's younger sisters, Darcy couldn't recall which, burst out of a hallway somewhere with eagerly flashing eyes, and another followed close behind.

"Who would have thought _Rin_ could get such a good catch?" giggled one, who he was sure must be Leena, practically skipping towards the kitchen, which was filled with pleasant cooking aromas. Darcy found himself flushing slightly as they greedily looked him up and down.

"Good evening, girls," he greeted with a polite nod. They looked at each other for a moment and then burst into girlish giggles.

"Would you like some wine, Proff – I mean, Darcy?" Fiona enquired.

"Uh, I suppose so," he replied slowly. She immediately pulled a bottle from the fridge and set about pouring him a rather large glass, as if she were particularly eager to get him drunk.

"MAIYA! Get your bum out here!" one of the girls cried loudly. Darcy nearly jumped, and was comforted as Eerin took her place by his side, the smell of her shampoo and the warmth of her body restoring his jarred senses.

Suddenly a girl appeared as if from the darkness, with short cropped hair dyed in various hues, as if to make her look like a tortoise-shell kitten. She wore thick black glasses that he'd noticed a lot of teens wearing as some sort of fashion statement, and some sort of witty slogan covered shirt. He vaguely recognised her as the sister who moaned and groaned some miserable song all night on the karaoke at Eerin's party, and spoke to him briefly at the wedding, but she had changed so much that he could barely tell.

"Oh great. Now I have to be sociable," Maiya muttered miserably, glaring at Eerin, who scowled.

"Maiya, a _little_ more welcoming?" she hissed.

"Well bugger-me, I suppose I should just bow down right now and offer a cup of tea," she offered sarcastically.

"Mai, shut up, you're being rude," Fiona snapped, producing an ornate cheese platter and a selection of savoury biscuits. "Now go put these on the table outside," she commanded. The morose child snatched up the platter and wine and stormed through the atrium to the outdoors entertaining area, muttering to herself. "Now then, I'll just grab some wine and meet you two out there," she announced, pasting a hospitable smile on her red lips.

"Sorry about that, Mai doesn't trust you, I used her to vent a lot of my frustrations when we weren't together," Eerin apologised, leading him outside. He shook his head with a chuckle.

"Not at all. I think I like her, she's at least interesting," he commented lightly.

"You have weird taste. But I already knew that," she laughed, shaking her head. "Come on, let's just eat cheese and drink wine and show my family how much we care for each other," she urged.

"Sounds delightful."

"Good. Alright, we're going to need to get good and drunk to enjoy this evening, but in the end, the hangover will be worth it," she declared cheerfully. He chuckled, and they strolled through to the outdoors entertainment area. There was a pool in the backyard, and he could see a large three car garage at the back. For the most part, the garden was made up of trees and shrubbery, with tall trees and thick green grass, just like Eerin had described. It was actually quite pleasant. They took a seat at a large table where the cheese platter had been placed, and took in the garden growing so close to them.

"It's a nice house," he commented.

"Hmm. I bet it's nothing like Pemberley," she laughed.

"Well... no, but it's still a nice house," he assured her. She shrugged.

"Well, the parentals like it well enough. If you go through that door over there," she said, pointing towards a set of French doors around the corner, "you can get through to my granny flat. That door goes into my version of Dad's shed, and then there's a dingy little kitchen combined dining room combined living room, and my bedroom and an ensuite," she informed him.

"This is the granny flat your Aunt used to live in?"

"Yeah, she had the smaller bedroom with the ensuite and Thomas had the fem office," she answered.

"Fem Office?" he questioned with a raised brow. She laughed.

"Female Office. Female Study. Female Library. Whatever you want, my space," she explained, before Fiona came bustling out of the atrium with a bottle of Riccodonna, several glasses and another platter of appetisers in her hand.

"I hope you like prosciutto, Darcy, dear," she declared cheerfully, depositing the plate before him. "Eerin hates meat, silly girl. Ever since she was a baby, I've never been able to get her to swallow down anything that was once living," she commented airily, plunking herself down with a glass of wine.

"Yes, she informed me of such a while ago," he replied simply, sipping his wine.

"But _you_ eat meat, don't you, Darcy?"

"You don't even have to cook the steak, and I'd still eat it," he assured her. She beamed.

"Wonderful! But it must be _such_ a pain, to have Eerin such a fussy eater. That's why she's so skinny, you know. Leena wears bigger bras than she does and Leena's only fifteen!" she cried. Darcy coloured slightly. "But then again, skinny is so fashionable, but only if you have a chest. Jannali's rather skinny too, but I think in a better way, and she's got the face to pull it off," she commented, taking another gulp of wine. "But Leena and Jannali are the two beauties of the family. The youngest and the oldest! Isn't that _funny_? They got the best of it and those in between missed out!" she giggled.

"I wouldn't say so," he replied somewhat sombrely.

"Leena and Jannali both got that lovely brown skin from their father. Kylie and Maiya are paler, but Eerin is the _palest_, and she's got freckles. I was always so terrified I'd have freckled children, I lathered them up in sunscreen when they were girls, but still, to no avail!" she cried dramatically.

"I thought I heard your dulcet tones, my dear," droned a distinctively male voice from the pathway leading up to the entertainment area. Darcy glanced up to see the familiar face of Mr Beaumont, looking at his wife in disgust. He deposited himself down in a chair and immediately poured himself a large glass of wine, not even acknowledging Darcy.

"Dad, you've already met Darcy," Eerin began sternly, as if reminding her father of his manners.

"Lo. Well, unless you've knocked her up I don't think I have much point to give you a threatening speech, boy, I think we covered it all the last time we spoke," he said simply, taking a large mouthful of wine.

"_What_?"

"Oh Warrain, don't tease!" Fiona scolded, swatting her husband on the arm.

"I can assure you, Mister Beaumont, that I've not –"

"Oh good Lord, you don't expect me to believe you're just giggling and holding hands, I might be old but I'm not stupid," he retorted pointedly. "And she's not drinking, too. You're not helping the suspicion," he added, glancing to her untouched glass.

"_Are_ you pregnant?" Darcy questioned suddenly, turning to her in surprise. She rolled her dark eyes.

"_No_."

"Yet," supped Fiona with a little giggle. Eerin sighed wearily and swallowed back a mouthful of wine.

"Fun family evenings," she muttered sarcastically, popping a piece of brie into her mouth, following it with a water cracker.

"So, Darcy. We didn't do a lot of talking at the wedding. None of the English ladies could ever tempt you?" Warrain questioned suddenly, glancing between him and Eerin.

"My feelings for Eerin have nothing to do with nationality, Mister Beaumont," he answered coolly.

"Fourteen years is quite an age difference, you know. Or is it fifteen?" he continued. Darcy swallowed his wine.

"About that mark," he conceded.

"And Eerin's only just finished University yesterday, and she might keep it up next year, too."

"Daddy," Eerin interrupted warningly.

"Just a few harmless questions and observations, Rinny-Ninny. I'm sure your Professor can handle it," he said calmly. "So, you live in England most of the time? How is _that_ going to work?" he questioned suddenly. Darcy took a deep, measured breath, trying to control his quick temper.

"It's a matter regarding Eerin and I, Mister Beaumont, and as such, I would –"

"Like me to get my big nose out of it," Warrain smiled, lowering his glass. "Sorry, can't. Father's prerogative. You a family man, Darcy?" he continued.

"I have few close family members, but they are very dear to me," he answered slightly stiffly.

"Been married? Divorced?" he enquired casually.

"No, I've never been married before," he replied.

"Waiting to meet the right girl?" he questioned almost accusingly, glancing to his daughter. Darcy smiled.

"Something like that."

"And obviously you have a steady income," he stated.

"My home in Derbyshire is, and has been for over two hundred years, a farming estate, so the land surrounding has been cultivated and rented out to local farmers, this is one aspect of my income," he began. "In addition I am paid royalties from my published works, commissions for historical interpretation of sources, and my work at the university," he continued. "My financial investments are run and protected by my cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, who has a very good understanding of the stock market, I have property on each continent –excluding Antarctica, of course, and the majority of which are investments, and finally, the inheritance from my parents would be enough to secure Eerin a very comfortable lifestyle, if that was your concern," he said finally, as Fiona gleefully counted up numbers in her head.

"Hell, I don't care about money. I'd only buy books and toy soldiers with it," Warrain replied cheerfully. Darcy hid a small smile as he sipped his wine.

"Well, I'm perfectly able to support your daughter, if that's your concern," he replied simply, with detached politeness.

"Well, to be honest, I'm more concerned about the fact that my girl had her heart broken by you, and then you stole her off to Sydney a few months later," Warrain commented dryly.

"Dad, you can bugger off if you're going to be mean to William," Eerin scolded. Darcy was shocked to see the way in which she spoke to her father, but Warrain only chuckled.

"I like him. He's just as stuck-up as you are," he sniggered. "And maybe even as stubborn! To the pom, may he forever be a valiant debater," he toasted raising his glass up and emptying it when he returned it to his lips. Eerin sighed, and shook her head, trying to hide her smile.

"Warrain, you're such a terrible host. Go check on dinner," scolded Fiona. He rolled his eyes, and reluctantly got up, only after filling his glass once more. "I'm _so_ sorry, Darcy. He can be so funny sometimes," she huffed. Darcy nodded.

"Understandable. When you love someone, you can be driven to act in a way you might not normally act," he reasoned.

"No. He's like that all the time," Fiona sighed, before diligently refilling his glass.

"I probably shouldn't. We're driving back to Sydney tonight," he discouraged, stopping her after only half a glass.

"Oh fiddle-sticks, you can stay here tonight. It'll give you more time to get to know my girls!" she decided cheerfully. Darcy opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped with Fiona's babbling. He sighed, and moodily stabbed a roll of prosciutto with a toothpick. He caught sight of Eerin sniggering out of the corner of his eye, and felt himself smile slightly.

Dinner was both good and bad. The _food_ was good, a homemade roast lamb, and then chocolate tiramisu for dinner, his two favourite dishes. Evidently Fiona had somehow discovered the information from some helpless victim. The _conversation_ left something lacking, however.

"But she's gotten _so_ fat now, so when she pissed off I was laughing _so_ hard, and then Denny called her a bogan and she heard and then she started to cry but it was _so_ funny," the youngest girl sniggered. "And then bloody du Plessis turned up, and she was all 'WHY AHH YUU NOT EEN CLESS, CHEELDREEEN?', and then she gave us all arvos because we were wagging or because we didn't have our blazers and hats or something," she scoffed. "So we told her to piss off back to South Africa, and she dragged us to chapel! It was _so_ pathetic!"

"Oh my God, I just _wish_ they would let us wear whatever we want!" the other girl, Kylie, sighed dramatically. "And I'm so sick of chapel."

"At least it's better than mass over at St Marys, though," Leena laughed. "My God, those Catholic bitches are all like 'we're so cool, we go to a private school', but we were all 'no you _don't_, because Catholic isn't private and _we_ go to a private school, you cheap ladettes'," she continued gleefully.

Darcy stared at his plate as if it would set fire in front of him. Anything to alleviate the pure torture of listening to those girls talk about their day, their criticisms of their own school, teachers and surrounding colleges bordering on blatant discrimination at some points.

"Can I be excused?" Maiya requested for the third time in the past ten minutes. She looked to be having less fun than Darcy was, if that were possible.

"Why, going to go slit your wrists?"

"Fuck off, Leena. I'm going out," Maiya decided, standing up and walking out of the breakfast room. Fiona and Warrain didn't complain.

"Can we go out too, Mum?" Kylie begged.

"No, girls, we have to be good hostesses for Professor Darcy! And you'll miss _So You Think You Can Dance_!" Fiona returned excitedly. "Are you finished, Darcy, dear? Did you want any more?" she questioned, noticing that he'd finished his tiramisu and brandy.

"No, thank you, Fiona, I'm quite full. It was lovely," he assured her politely. She beamed, and immediately jumped up, collecting plates.

"Are you going to stay in and watch telly with us? It's the semi-finals tonight," she urged him.

"Uhh... Mum, I think Will and I are probably going to just turn in, do you mind?" Eerin questioned, saving him from having to answer.

"Oh, of course, it was _lovely_ to meet you properly, Darcy! I guess I'll see you in the morning!" she said finally, somewhat disappointed, but still unreasonably cheerful. Warrain said nothing as they bid him goodnight, simply drained another glass of whatever was alcoholic and on hand.

"Night girls," Eerin muttered to her two sisters, who were now sitting in front of the television with mindless blank faces. She rolled her dark eyes, and took Darcy by the hand, leading him through to her granny flat.

She flicked on the light and threw down her purse as Darcy looked around. It was small, and a little dingy. The red carpet was interesting, and so was the faded floral wallpaper, but at the same time it worked very well. It was decorated in a haphazard but stylishly European way, and it suited her, even though it was a bit messy and a bit dusty.

"So. This is where I live," she declared, gesturing around the small flat. He smiled as he glanced around, silently walking around, taking in the tiny kitchen, the beaten up whitewashed dining table with mismatched chairs, the golden picture frames on the wall of a variety of images, ranging from artsy photography, band portraits to Renaissance prints, the chintzy, 'fem office' that was, as the name suggested, very feminine, before he entered her bedroom. It was small; once again with red carpet and floral wallpaper, it had a built-in wardrobe that was practically bursting with clothes, and a door that led to a small bathroom. The bed took up most of the room, with a small table, and an antique dresser that had a little chintzy ottoman before it.

"I was worried it would be too girly for me, you know," he commented teasingly, still glancing around. It felt unusual that at that point of their relationship, when they'd known each other for almost a year and they had been together off-and-on for about eight months, that he was only now shown her home. Her room. It was something very personal and private and he loved it.

He wanted it to be filled with little personal items of his, like the ones that littered his flat of hers. He wanted a space in her wardrobe to have a selection of his things in it, he wanted there to be things in the kitchen that she knew he liked, even if she didn't like them herself. He wanted a toothbrush for her bathroom, like there was one for her in his. He loved that it was girly and feminine, because that made it distinctively _hers_, and he was now a part of that.

"Sorry it's not as overpoweringly masculine as _your_ room, but I like flowers," she defended with a laugh, sitting herself down on the edge of her bed, her eyes twinkling playfully.

"Hmm. I don't mind," he smiled. "In fact, I quite like it. I feel like such an intruder now," he grinned. She rolled her eyes as he took a seat beside her.

"So, what did you think of them?" she asked with a loaded pause, turning to him almost nervously. He shrugged.

"I was surprised that your mother liked me. Or seemed to like me. I did offend her quite rudely several months ago," he commented. "But I enjoyed myself, for the most part. I was only moderately horrified," he chuckled. She scoffed, and poked him in the belly before lying back on the bed with a comfortable sigh. He chuckled, and then shifted so he could lie with the back of his head on her ribs. She enjoyed those times when he would do that, sometimes with his head in her lap or him resting against her, because he seemed all the more vulnerable in those moments.

"It was kind of fun," she agreed thoughtfully, running a hand gently through his dark hair. "Mum was in good form tonight. I know how she seems most of the time, but she really does love me. She loves all of us," she assured him.

"It's your younger sisters I'm more concerned about," he commented with a slight frown.

"Yeah, Leena is a handful. You know she was secretly seeing Graham behind my back earlier this year?" she said suddenly. He looked to her in complete surprise.

"When did _this_ happen?" he demanded incredulously.

"Months ago, after I told him to bugger off. He turned up here, of all places, hoping he could talk to me," she began. "Leena answered the door and I suppose it went from there, she told him she was eighteen, which is still pretty weird. But they only went out a few times before she got bored with him," she explained, feeling Darcy tense atop her. "Apparently he asked her to run away with him or something; she thought it was a big laugh. We're just lucky he wasn't rich enough for her," she sighed.

"To think what could of happened..." he muttered quietly, clenching his fists. "_God_, I hate that man. Does he have to impose himself on every aspect of my life?" he growled. "If she _had_ run away with him, you know I would have done everything in my power to find them? Not just for her, but I'd relish an opportunity to get revenge," he grumbled. Eerin laughed against him.

"I know, hun. She only told me a few months after it had happened, she was proud of it," she commented.

"Proud of not running away with a scoundrel? Well, common sense isn't that much of an achievement," he muttered bitterly.

"I meant of getting a bloke interested enough that he'd want to run away with her," she laughed. He shook his head in disapproval.

"I think we need to take the girls to England. Hopefully some of Ana's sensibility will rub off on them," he commented thoughtfully. Eerin looked to him in surprise.

"Really? You would do that? Put up with my sisters?" she questioned incredulously. He turned his head to look up at her and nodded.

"Of course I would. I want them to be happy and safe, they are your family, after all," he shrugged. "And they're not that much younger than Ana, either. I've raised a teenage girl, and I can tell where your parents went wrong with your younger sisters," he commented.

"Well, just don't commit yourself to anything. They're all bonkers," she sighed tiredly.

"Well, no offence, but I think both your parents contributed to that," he muttered. Eerin giggled slightly.

"Yeah, Daddy is a little odd. I think he likes you, though," she assured him. He scoffed.

"I doubt it. He just likes making me uncomfortable," he grumbled bitterly. "Did he actually ask me if I'd impregnated you, or was that just a nightmare?" he questioned hopefully. She sniggered.

"Sorry, that happened," she replied, to which he groaned.

"Damn. I was hoping... oh well," he sighed.

"Don't be sorry, it was amusing to see the horrified expression on your face when you asked if I was," she laughed. He opened his tightly screwed eyes.

"You thought I was horrified?" he questioned. She shrugged.

"Well, you looked it," she retorted simply. He looked up to her with a raised brow.

"I wouldn't be, you know," he finally said. She swallowed rather obviously.

"You – you wouldn't?" she stammered. He shook his head. "I thought you didn't want kids yet?" she challenged almost nervously.

"Well, that was about six months ago, you know," he retorted with a slight shrug. He then resumed his comfortable position with his head resting against her chest. "I was hoping you were pregnant when you left me. Then you would come back, and we could get married," he commented casually, as if he were making a remark about the weather. "And, knowing me, if I had felt you were going to leave me, I would have thrown out your pill so you wouldn't go," he added lightly.

"You wouldn't," she accused. He glanced up to her with a raised brow.

"I think I would have, had the situation become dire enough, and we were still sleeping together," he retorted simply. She scoffed.

"So that was your solution to us staying together? Getting me pregnant so I couldn't leave you?" she exclaimed. He looked thoughtful, and then nodded.

"Yes. I'm not very original, I'm afraid."

"I'm just glad that I wasn't. I'm _so_ not ready to go through what Jan did. It was disgusting, you know," she said with a slight shudder. "Blood everywhere, and babies are _hideous_ when they're first born. Not to mention that yucky after-birth stuff. It was worse than _Juno_, which was a crappy movie anyway, but made all the worse with the ugly newborn bit," she rambled. "I mean, well, _Juno_ wasn't so bad. The music was cute, but it was such a crappy attempt at being young, hit and miss, I'd say," she commented thoughtfully.

"I don't think either of us are ready for what Jannali and Chase went through with Noah. I couldn't imagine how horrible it must have been for them," he replied sadly.

"Mm. He's alright now, though," she sighed. "But you really wanted that? You wanted me to be pregnant, just so we could be together again?" she asked with a frown.

"I know it seems rather inconsiderate, but I was in such a horrible state that I didn't care. I had this wonderful idea that you would turn up to class in tears and everything would be wonderful again; we'd get married and have a child together, and none of it would matter anymore," he explained simply, as she moved her hands to once more stroke through his dark hair and gently over his shoulders.

He gave a comfortable sigh and moved one hand to rest possessively over the top of her thigh, the other playing with a loose thread on her bedspread. She loved these moments that had developed since she had moved back in with him. Silences that could say everything, where there was no awkwardness or need to say a word.

"Tired?" she murmured softly, when she felt he was starting to doze off.

He nodded slightly, and she moved her hands to rub along the side of his temples and his hairline. He turned his head into her ribs with a slight sigh; something she had discovered only recently was how much a scalp massage could affect him. His reactions ranged, if she used her nails in a specific way he would instantly be wide awake and very... _insistent_ with his affections, whereas if she rubbed his head as she was doing now, he would fall fast asleep within thirty seconds. The same went with any sort of back or shoulder massage, which he had grown to be very, _very_ fond of.

She smiled when his breathing slowed and his eyes fluttered to a close, and he was soon unconscious. She stared at him with soft eyes before sighing and glancing around the room curiously. Somehow it seemed foreign to her again. Without knowing it, this place was no longer her home. Ever since Darcy had handed in his resignation the lines of their relationship had been blurred, but she now knew that her true home wasn't in Merryton, it wasn't even in Sydney, it was wherever he was.

He shifted slightly in his sleep, now lying with his chest half pressed against her ribs. She winced as she felt something digging into her painfully, and her arms slid round to remove his jacket from him. He muttered something as she had to move his arms, but he was in a deep sleep already so did not awake. She glanced around to see where she could put the jacket, frowning at the dusty carpet, and so simply tossed it beside her. As it landed, the item that had been pressing into her uncomfortably slid from one of the pockets, landing right beside her face.

It was a small, red ring-box.

She swallowed as it simply sat there, almost mocking her.

She had a burning curiosity to open it, to peer inside, but she knew she shouldn't. It would be an invasion of his privacy. And it wasn't even certainly a ring box – it could be earrings, for all she knew, even though she didn't wear earrings. And it didn't mean it was an engagement ring, it could be just an ordinary ring.

Her fingers itched to reach for it, but she turned her head upwards, staring at the ceiling with a determined frown. She wouldn't touch it. She wouldn't look at it.

But, if Darcy _did_ ask her to marry him, then what would she say? She _had_ turned him down at least once, or twice if she was to believe that he had, amidst his rambling declaration of love all those months ago, proposed that she be his partner _in every sense of the word_, but that was months ago, anyway. She was a new woman now; they had spent three months together pretty much locked up in his flat, things had certainly changed. They were closer than they ever were before, and if she had felt such a long time ago ready to marry him, then shouldn't she be simply burning for him to ask her now?

Her first feeling was fear. She was frightened of change, she could admit that well enough to herself after all that had passed over the year. She was terrified that this would ruin everything, that marriage was forever and she simply wasn't ready for a lifetime with him. Then again, she was completely and totally, _ridiculously_ nervous about the prospect of being a married woman and failing him. She was, after all, only twenty, and not a day went by when she hadn't been aware of the difference in their ages. Sometimes she was painfully aware, and sometimes it brought a smile or her face. But it was always _there_, and it would never go away.

The cynic in her said that marriage would ruin everything wonderful they had. And the realist said that things would be so much more difficult than it had been already. But strangely... none of this _really_ mattered to her.

She looked down to the man lying with his head on her stomach, breathing softly with his eyes closed as she softly ran her fingers through his hair. When he slept he was a different man. That strength that he had during the day was gone, and he was just a young man with far too much weight on his shoulders.

For a moment, just a split second, it occurred to her that he needed someone to look after him. He was a man who had lost his parents at such an incredibly young age, who had been forced quickly into adulthood and who was still struggling to live up to everything that was expected of him. That over the past year that was what everything was really about; including the whole issue with Carol and the break up. But then the thought was gone, with only an echo of it remaining in the back of her mind.

After a little while, she didn't know how long, his eyes opened and he gave a slight yawn, just like he always did when he awoke. His eyes focused on her, and he gave her a soft smile, sitting up slightly.

"Mm. Sorry, must have dozed off," he murmured sleepily.

"That's alright, you must be tired," she replied softly. He gave a low chuckle.

"A little. But I'm relieved it's over now," he shrugged, making an effort to sit up without crushing her.

He looked slightly confused to see that his jacket had been taken off, and picked it up with a small frown. His eyes then shifted to the box that was revealed to his vision the moment he moved it.

"Sorry. You moved and your jacket was digging into me," she apologised, fighting a tiny smile as she too sat up, and folded her legs beneath her body.

"Ah. I suppose you've..." he trailed off, gesturing to the box. She shook her head.

"I haven't looked in it. It just fell out of your pocket," she explained simply, as he gave a small, breathy chuckle, and picked it up thoughtfully. He glanced up to her, and with a pensive expression, tapped the box against his lips.

"So?" he questioned simply. She laughed.

"What, that's it? So?" she demanded, raising a brow. He smirked, and nodded.

"Well, considering this will be my... well, _third_ attempt, I believe, I think you've waved the right to a fancy down-on-one-knee sort of thing," he commented lightly. She rolled her eyes.

"Could be a sign that you need another method, and a fancy down-on-one-knee thing would be the next option to try," she challenged teasingly, and he joined with his own chuckle, running a hand through his dark hair. "You don't have to. I don't want you to rush into anything," she assured him.

"Mm? What? Oh, no, I've been carrying this around for three months. I had to do it tonight, or we would be in a very awkward situation in exactly... thirty-three days and roughly eight hours," he commented, glancing to his watch. Eerin raised a brow.

"What are you planning?" she asked with suspicion.

"Our honeymoon. This country is ridiculously difficult to elope in, you see, as you need at least a month's notice," he explained. She laughed at the factual tone of his answer.

"Serious? We're getting married in a month?' she demanded incredulously. He smiled, and shrugged.

"If you would like. I want us to be in England for Christmas, if that's alright with you, so we need to get moving with this," he replied simply. She raised her hand to her mouth and laughed into her fingers.

"You haven't even _asked_ me!" she pointed out, fighting an embarrassing grin. He smirked, and placed the ring box before her, unopened.

"So?"

"What, no 'one-knee'?" she challenged. He bit his lip against a smile, and shook his head.

"I'm sick of us being unequal in this relationship. I'm perfectly happy to propose to you at eye-level, as a symbolical gesture of respect for you," he explained. "I had an idea planned that involved some jasmine, but it wasn't going to work out. You should never have fallen in love with a symbolist, I've spent so long thinking about how I could do this meaningfully that it's taken me this long to actually get around to it," he commented lightly.

"What were some of your ideas?" she asked, biting back a giggle. He rolled his eyes.

"Ah, well, at first I thought I might fill our flat with peach blossoms, which traditionally the Chinese associated with immortality, youth and marriage," he began thoughtfully. "But then I realised it also represented virginity, and I believe I took that from you quite some time ago, so that was useless, not to mention it would terrify Boots," he added with a shrug. "And then I have a very sweet, if not slightly kitsch idea about buying half a dozen porcelain bells and writing 'MARRY ME' on them, because bells are a vessel of good news in Christian society," he continued factually.

"I would have liked that," she giggled.

"I know you would, but I didn't think it was clever enough," he smiled. "Then I had a fleeting idea about tying a ribbon around your neck, because that's part of the Hindu marriage ceremony, but I remembered your aversion to neck-touching," he explained, almost apologetically.

"Good. I would have thought you mixed Boots and I up and were trying to put a collar on me," she laughed.

"Then there was the rice. Symbol of fertility. But I can't cook, and you're not supposed to use raw rice, explodes birds, apparently," he informed her, as if they were discussing something very trivial but slightly interesting. "Uh, same problem with cake, minus the exploding birds, because cake is once again a symbol of fertility and food is generally representative of sexual love," he continued. "I _attempted_ to import a pair of mandarin ducks because they're a Chinese symbol of enduring and committed love, but that didn't go down well, for obvious reasons," he explained with a slight frown.

"I can imagine. But those ducks are pretty damn cute, I would have liked one," she commented with a grin.

"I had a lot of plans. Painting our door green, giving you a Zulu beaded necklace of seven colours, leaving peonies around wherever you went, it was going to be terribly romantic," he smiled thoughtfully.

"Sorry I've ruined it," she laughed.

"Mm, I don't mind. I'm just glad I can finally get around to actually doing it," he shrugged, glancing back down to the ring. "As much as I loathe to repeat myself, _so?_" he questioned, gesturing to the box.

"Well? Are you going to ask me?" she demanded. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm worried I'll word it wrong," he defended. She laughed, and shook her head.

"Nup. I'm not going to tell our grandchildren that you proposed to me by just saying 'so'," she teased. He groaned impatiently.

"Alright. Well, what do you want me to say?" he challenged. She looked thoughtful.

"I don't know. The truth. Tell me the truth," she requested with a pleased smile. He ran a hand nervously over his chin, and stared at the ring thoughtfully.

"Well... the truth is that..." he began slowly, before glancing up to her eyes and sighing. "Eerin, the truth is that you're the most incredible woman I've ever met. You're better than what I thought I wanted in my life, and you're certainly more than I deserve," he admitted finally, sharing a sheepish glance with her. "I am... completely and totally in love with you, and completely and totally in awe. You astound me everyday and I don't think I could really live without being astounded by you.

"You've put up with so much from me. I'm not pretending that this is going to be smooth and easy, I'm not promising you perfection. I'll give you everything; whatever is left of the good and all of the bad, but I know there's a lot of that. You're going to get my anxiety and my anger and my jealousy and my obsession, and my strange inability to verbally communicate when I'm upset," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought over his words, before sighing. "I know that's a lot. I know I'm a lot to take, but I also know that no one could ever mean half as much as what you mean to me," he said honestly, his voice breaking slightly. "I couldn't imagine a world in which we're not husband and wife. I never stopped imagining it, no matter what happened, so I would be very appreciative if you would do me the favour of making that a reality," he finished, glancing up to her with a tentative smile. "So? What do you think? Will you marry me?" he asked softly.

She smiled. "Only if you take my bad, too. My confused sexuality and my eating disorders and my weird, unpredictable sense of self-esteem?" she challenged. He grinned.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Well. I suppose I should say yes, because no one else is as fucked up as I am but you, so I guess we belong together," she said thoughtfully, biting her bottom lip against a grin.

"Very logical."

"Well, I'm trying to be rational about this," she laughed.

"That's my girl," he chuckled, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to hers. She grinned against his mouth as she felt his hand slide over her thighs to pick up the ring box beside her. "So? Last chance," he teased against her lips.

"Guess so," she shrugged playfully. He sniggered and pressed his forehead to hers, opening the box and pulling forth the beautiful white-gold ring she recognised from the portrait in London. He slid it onto her finger and then raised it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her hand. "We're getting married?" she murmured happily. He nodded.

"Looks like it."

"I love you," she whispered against his cheek as his arms slid around her waist, and lowered her so she was lying on her back on the bed.

"Mm, I'm quite fond of you too," he teased, with twinkling eyes. She rolled hers, but before she could offer a snappy retort, he pressed his mouth against hers, and all thoughts disappeared from her mind, leaving nothing but the giddy, warm glow in the pit of her stomach that she would feel for the rest of her life whenever she realised that she was the luckiest woman in the world.

**A/N: Sorry I take so long to update, university is taking up a lot of my time. I think I said last chapter that there were two more chapters to go, but that was wrong. There were three, including this one. So there's one more chapter, and then the epilogue. I would write a longer author's note but I'm dead tired (I have to get up at six-thirty to get to uni at ten, SUCKS TO BE ME), and I really need to do some study. **

**Review, we're almost done!**

**-Evie**


	45. Of Reunions and Restless Farewells

"_But the time ain't tall, yet on time you depend,  
And no word is possessed by no special friend  
And though the line is cut, it ain't quite the end  
I'll just bid farewell till we meet again__"_

_-_Bob Dylan, 'Restless Farewell'

_Three months earlier..._

"I thought you weren't going to come."

Darcy's words came out as a relieved breath when he pulled open his front door after Eerin's timid knock, several hours after her classes had finished and she had been expected at his flat. She looked up at him with a weak smile.

"Well, I said I would," she shrugged. He reached forwards, perhaps to hold her to kiss her again, but she pulled back without meeting his eyes. "I don't think... we should talk, William," she announced. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him give a defeated nod, and stepped back, allowing her entry to the familiar apartment.

Not a lot had changed. The candles were gone, and so were the cushions – but the coffee table they had bought together remained, albeit with bottles of alcohol and glass tumblers sprawled across the surface. For a moment she felt like not a thing had changed since all those months ago when they were happy and when things were simple. She closed her eyes and breathed deep.

But when she opened them again, the familiarity was gone, and she returned to the present.

"You've got a new message," she stated blankly, pointing to the landline phone, where a bright red light flashed continuously.

"I have about fifteen. Unbelievably, my Aunt Catherine has already heard about what happened," he drawled, stepping behind her and taking her backpack and coat from her. She blushed when his fingers lightly grazed her shoulder, and practically ran from him, taking a seat on the corner of the lounge. He joined her after a moment, staring at the sofa as if it might leap up and swallow him. She was uneasy with the memory of all that had occurred on that lounge, because the thought of sharing such intimacy again terrified the hell out of her.

"Did you talk to –"

"Yes."

"How did it go?" she asked uneasily as he took a seat beside her, the space between them stretching out like miles.

"Not well," he admitted with a slight wince, rubbing the back of his neck. Her first instinct was to lean forward and massage the strain out of it for him, but she resisted the urge. They were still strangers in that moment. "I've put in my resignation, but I have to remain for the rest of the term. And the Vice-Chancellor requested that I don't come back to the University of Sydney again," he explained.

"So... it didn't change much?" she said, raising a brow. He stared at her with incredulity.

"It hasn't – Eerin, what do you _want_ from me?" he snapped, his bright green eyes narrowed. "What else could I have done? If I honestly believed that you had wanted me to announce to the entire world that I've been shagging one of my students, then I would have done it. But right now, I have no idea about what you want to happen next," he continued sharply.

"What, so that's all this has been? You've just been _shagging_ some student? You asked me to marry you a few hours ago, William!" she objected.

"And you said _no_."

The sharpness and the bitterness of this statement cut through her arguments and objects, making her feel stupid and petulant. He was right, though. She had said no; she didn't have the right to try and use it against him.

Darcy took a deep breath after a moment of cold glares, and then wearily leant back into the sofa.

"I admit that we haven't always been on the same page in this relationship, but if you think that I haven't tried to keep this together then you're sorely mistaken," he said finally. "And I waited for you. I didn't just give up, like you did – I waited for things to change. I didn't even know that I still had hope until a few days ago," he added, when she refused to answer.

"So you're calling me a quitter?" she asked dryly, trying to relieve the tension. She felt angry that he seemed to be disappointed in her.

"I'm just saying that you didn't try to get things back to how they were. Maybe you didn't want me back, but I know you didn't stop loving me," he sighed, resting his chin against the palm of his hand and his elbow on the armrest of the sofa, surveying her with an unreadable expression. "So are you going to tell me what you want?" he asked, after she had remained silent for several minutes.

"I don't know."

"Very helpful," he scoffed, his mask of calm gone. He rose to his feet and began to angrily pace the room. "I could have done more. I know I could have. But if you weren't so frightened of –"

"I'm not _scared_!" she interrupted sharply.

"You were almost _raped_, Eerin, by my _cousin_!" Darcy barked, turning to her and holding her gaze with his darkly flashing eyes. "If that didn't frighten you, then you're either lying or just stupid, and I know you're not stupid," he continued, when the weight of his words had stung for long enough. "Something like that... it changes a person. I saw it in Ana, I _know_ how you must have felt, and I know that after everything with Carol you probably thought that you can't trust me," he said with quiet desperation as he crossed the room.

"Stop bringing it back to that," she muttered, her cheeks burning red. She turned away from him when he knelt before her, trying to reach for her hands.

"Look at me, Eerin," he commanded. She finally tore her gaze to meet his, and swallowed nervously. "I know that we can't fix this right away. But I _want_ to fix it. If it means we continue with the charges against Victor, if it means we go after Carol, then I don't mind. I'm ready for that," he swore, his voice gravitating with force.

"I don't want that."

"Well perhaps if you did, then you would want _me_, too," he snapped, stepping back from her. "We should never have started this. I should have known that this would only end badly – I should never have let myself fall for you, I should never have come here," he declared, beginning to fitfully pace once more.

"Maybe that would have been better," Eerin sniffed. Darcy looked to her with an expression bordering on disgust, before shaking his head and continuing his swift walk across the room. She wasn't lying. Something in her wanted everything to go back to how it was before she met him, so she wouldn't be sitting in such a mess. She didn't know anything about herself anymore – everything had changed.

"All of this... it's been madness. Utter madness. I used to be – I used to be a _teacher_!" he cried angrily. "I raised my sister as my own child, I did whatever I could to keep her safe and to teach her to be good and kind, I worked hard to get to where I am; I was _controlled_!" he snapped.

"Would you rather you had never met me?" Eerin asked weakly, not daring to raise her head. She heard him halt his furious pacing.

"Honestly? After these past few months, after you left me, yes. Yes, I did wish I had never met you."

"Then what do we do?" she asked, feeling strangely calm. Something inside her wanted to cry and break and scream at him, but she couldn't let that part win. Then she really would be a quitter.

"I've done everything I can do, Eerin. But you fucked up too," he said stiffly. She looked up in surprise. It was a very rare occasion to her him swear.

"I never asked for any of –"

"After Victor... _you_ didn't fight. The Eerin I fell in love with would never have let Carol hurt her; she would have fought back for what she wanted. It's alright to be a victim, you know."

With that, he moved to sit down on the lounge beside her. She was silent and stared ahead of her, deep in thought. He was right, and that made her furious.

"It you had only dealt with what happened like a mature adult..." he trailed off with a heavy sigh. "We're not _children_, Eerin. We shouldn't just sit around languishing for months on end, as if we didn't have control over what was going on. We both should have fought for it," he murmured.

Eerin opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

She didn't speak for several minutes, clenching her fist. Her first instinct was to hit him, to insist that she was as weak as he thought she was, but all thought was just a jumbled up, blurry mess in her mind. The weight of it physically _hurt_.

"Do you have anything to drink?" she rasped finally. Darcy looked at her with a raised brow, and then glanced over to the coffee table, which suggested he had been drowning his sorrows in alcohol for the past few months. She reached for a glass and a familiar bottle, pouring herself a drink with shaking hands, and swallowing it back with a wince.

"If it's any consolation," Darcy murmured, as he began to pour himself a drink, "I think we were made for each other."

Eerin didn't reply as she poured herself another drink. He knew that she agreed.

* * *

The next morning at the Beaumont house, Darcy and Eerin awoke late to the very domestic sounds of lawns being mown, children laughing as they played in pools and backyards, dogs barking excitedly and people chatting over garden fences.

"Have I ever told you that you look pretty sexy when you're all rumpled up?" Eerin asked her fiancé with a teasing grin when the sun coming in from her wide window was making the room too hot to sleep.

"Mm. Most mornings, actually," he smiled, sitting up with a yawn and brightly twinkling eyes. "So, dearest, loveliest Eerin, love of my life, soon to be my bride, how did you sleep?" he asked teasingly, a rather silly grin giving a perfectly adorable look to his features, that the ruffled hair only helped with.

"Not half bad, thanks," she sniggered, sliding closer to him and wrapping her arms around his bare waist, sighing against his skin. "We're _engaged_," she whispered excitedly against his skin.

"Mm. And if we want to be married before Christmas, we should probably hurry up and start planning this thing," he reminded her. She could tell just by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.

"Just tell Mum, she'll take care of it _all_," Eerin groaned, pulling away from him. "Alright, we had better get out of bed and all. I have some men's shirts here, if you'd like," she offered, sliding out of bed and pulling on the oversized shirt that she had never gotten round to wearing the night before.

"Your taste in clothing astounds me," he commented with a small, laughing smirk as she tossed one of his own white Oxford shirts to him, and a pair of beige-coloured trousers. "I've been looking for these! How could you even wear them?" he exclaimed in complete surprise.

"Oh, they're really cute if you wear a waist-high belt and fold them up at the bottom. Sorry, I warned you, I'm a clothes pony," she laughed. He rolled his eyes and tossed the clothes over his shoulder. "You can have a shower first, and as Mum is going to go pretty bonkers about this," she held her hand up where the ring twinkled in the morning light, "I think it's best if I told her on my own, and you make a dramatic appearance later on," she added with a playful grin.

"Alright, just don't run out on me, not now that I've finally caught you," he smiled, before she pressed a kiss to the side of his cheek, and then skipped out of the room. He chuckled as he watched her go, feeling quite the happiest he had ever been in years.

Eerin's prediction that her mother was going to go 'bonkers' was quite close to the mark, as she discovered when she went into the main house to make herself a cup of tea, and Fiona screamed excitedly at seeing the ring sparkling on her finger.

"Oh, you're going to be so _rich_! You'll have such a beautiful big _house_ and so many cars and jewellery and clothes and _shoes_!" she squealed eagerly, practically bouncing up and down while clutching onto Eerin's hand as tightly as she could. Soon, Leena and Kylie joined in with excitement, and even Maiya managed a smile for her sister.

"Is dad down in the shed?" Eerin asked nervously, after twenty minutes of their collected ramblings.

"Oh, he's pottering around somewhere," Fiona waved her off. "Oh, and you'll have such _beautiful_ babies! Are you going to live in England? It'll be so _romantic_!" she sighed dreamily. Kylie and Leena jumped across the lounge to place their chins on Eerin's knees, staring up at her with wide eyes.

"Can we come stay with you?" Leena asked eagerly.

"And can you take us shopping? Can we go to London and see Agyness Deyn?"

"And Peaches Geldolph?"

"And Emma Watson?"

"And Alexa Chung?"

"Guys, calm down!" Eerin laughed, silencing her excited sisters. "Darcy and I were talking last night, and he said he thinks you two should stay with us in England for a while, but we didn't discuss any details," she explained, which was met with an excited cry from the pair of them.

"So you'll definitely be living in England, then?" Maiya asked from the nearby armchair, a slightly pained expression on her face, before it quickly passed.

"I... I guess so," Eerin shrugged with a slight frown. "I mean, he could work at Cambridge, he knows someone there who said he would always be welcome, so it makes sense," she explained slowly.

She hadn't really thought about it. When she was there, with her sisters, with her mother, she found it difficult to imagine leaving them for another country. It was different to going away for a holiday, because she knew that whilst she might come back for visits, she was _leaving_ them forever. She was leaving the country she had grown up in for good, the country that she was tied to.

"You alright?" Kylie asked doubtfully, waving a hand in her face. Eerin managed a smile.

"Yeah. Fine," she assured her. "But he wants to get married in a month. He's planned the honeymoon already, but he won't tell me what it is," she explained to her family. Fiona gave a loud cry.

"Good _lord,_ what is he thinking? We can't plan a wedding in a month!" she cried. "We have to book a church!" she began with a worried expression.

"I don't really want to get married in a church," Eerin frowned.

"Then... we'll need a hall for the reception, at least!" she insisted. Eerin shrugged.

"I don't mind about the reception. He hasn't got a lot of friends, and I don't want it to be big," she explained simply. Fiona scoffed.

"You're being difficult. Well, where do you want the ceremony?" she demanded instantly. Eerin looked thoughtful.

"Umm, I don't know," she admitted.

"Then where do you want the reception?"

"I'm not sure."

"You're impossible!" Fiona cried miserably, jumping up and scrambling into her bedroom. She reappeared a moment later with a large white folder decorated with pressed flowers. "Alright, this is the folder I've been using to organise all your weddings. What about the beach?" she questioned, sitting down and pulling it open. "I was planning that for Jan, actually, but she preferred the hall. I've found a _lovely_ nightclub in the city that does weddings for Kylie and Leena, and then for Maiya St Andrews Cathedral, because it's gothic," she explained eagerly.

"You've been planning all our weddings?" Eerin exclaimed, grabbing the folder.

"Of course I have, since you were born. This is _your_ section," she explained, pulling it open to the back few pages.

"Why am I at the back?" she asked with a frown.

"I did it in order of likely-hood to get married," Fiona admitted, slightly apologetically.

"I'm before Eerin?" Maiya exclaimed with surprise.

"She's still put Leena and Kylie's second weddings before yours, Mai," Eerin grumbled. "_And_ Maddy's. And her _own_ second wedding. Even – bloody hell Mum, Tom is four years old!" she cried angrily, flicking through the large folder. Fiona blushed with genuine embarrassment.

"Well... I was being realistic!" she exclaimed. "You declared you would only ever marry Stephen Fry when you were fifteen, and I _know_ he's gay –"

"Only ninety per-cent."

"So I figured you wouldn't get married at all!" she defended.

"Mum, why is my wedding based off Ellen Degeneres'?" she asked with a scowl.

"I figured... it was likely..."

"That's it! My wedding is going to be at Max Brenner and none of you are invited!" she cried angrily, slamming the book shut with a snap.

"But there's some good stuff in there! I did one for you if you had a _straight_ wedding, I swear!" she defended, snatching the book back and pulling it open. "See, I decided that if you _did_ get lucky and marry Stephen Fry, because he's so rich, he could afford St Mary's Chapel, and then the Park Hyatt for the reception," she explained. Eerin sighed.

"I don't want a fancy wedding, Mum. I've got Will, and that's enough, I swear," she insisted softly. Fiona pouted.

"Well, what about the beach wedding?" she asked hopefully.

"No way. Too cliché, and I hate sand," she laughed, shaking her head slightly as she gazed down at the plans. "Mum, this is sweet, but it's not really me. I just want something small. Something outside," she explained gently.

"Fine. We'll discuss it with my soon-to-be son in law," she sighed dramatically, taking the book and handing it to Leena and Kylie, who were eagerly exploring their multiple pages. "Speaking of which, where is he?" she asked curiously.

"He was having a shower when I left. I'm worried he might have gotten lost," she laughed with a slight shrug.

"Well, I'm going to start breakfast – men always turn up when they can smell bacon," Fiona decided firmly, practically leaping up from the armchair to dash into the kitchen.

"Can we have your clothes when you move to England?" Leena asked her sister hopefully. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"You can have some of my summer stuff, if you like, because it's freezing there. But check with me first to make sure you're not taking anything I want to keep," she said sternly. Immediately Leena and Kylie leapt up with squeals of excitement, and raced quickly to the other end of the house to raid Eerin's wardrobe.

When they were gone, Eerin lowered her eyes to her lap, where the ring sat with a silent, heavy weight on her finger. Somehow it made everything different; it spoke of promise and the future and of love. It made her feel like a woman; and the feminist in her wanted to object, to argue to herself that she was a woman with or without a man – but she didn't want to fight it.

She was happy.

She didn't know if she could have been happy without him, but it was a relief to know that she _did_ have him beside her to make her happy.

After a few minutes of silence, Eerin glanced up to see Maiya staring at her with a blank expression, her knees drawn up beneath her chin. She looked just like the Maiya she had grown up, even with her strangely dyed hair and the slight hints of disappointment in her eyes.

"I reckon it's all bullshit, you know."

Eerin didn't really understand what her sister meant, but she nodded regardless. Maiya gave a heavy sigh and stared out the living room window with wistful distraction.

"I mean, none of it makes any sense. We've barely heard from you for months, and you suddenly turn up out of the blue, and everything's all right," she announced thoughtfully. "And you're getting married. _Married_, Rin. Do you even understand that?" she huffed, sending her a short glare. Eerin couldn't help but bristle at this.

"Well I didn't exactly say 'yes' because I liked the idea of a white dress and a new name, Mai. I know what marriage is," she insisted with slight coolness. Maiya shrugged, and began picking at a stray thread on her pyjama pants.

"I just can't really imagine how you do. I mean, it hasn't been that long between you two. I know you've been through shit, but I still just can't wrap my head around all of this," she muttered, with slight bitterness. "I guess... I don't even think I can see that you two love each other. You're so different," she added, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"But you weren't _there_, Mai, when he first told me he loved me, you never read his letter, you didn't see him at the beach, there's so much that you just didn't _see_!" Eerin objected, feeling a strain in her throat as the emotions of the past few months started to catch up with her. "I mean, he – he took a beating from his best friend because he's changed, he estranged his family and he gave up his job, I _know_ how much he loves me!" she insisted, rubbing her eyes to deny the onset of tears. Maiya stared at her in silence. "And I love him to death. Being apart from him..." she gave a breathing, bitter laugh, "It really sucked. It really, _really_ sucked," she sniffled.

"He broke your heart. At _least_ twice, Rin. And then you two just camp out for three months and suddenly you're getting married in a few weeks? It's insane," she said, her voice a mumble against her knees.

"Maiya..." she sighed, running a hand through her short hair, trying to put into words what she was feeling at that precise moment; the same feeling she had when he asked her to be his wife. "Here's the thing. He and I are going to do stupid stuff again. We're going to fight and not talk to each other and be miserable for months on end, and then just run back into each other's arms when we can't bear to be apart anymore," she calmly explained.

"It's just so... _ridiculous_."

"Yeah. But we're made for each other," she shrugged with a wry, secretive smile, running her thumb over the ring. "I'm not pretending that this makes sense, because it doesn't. We worked through things. We're still working through it – we might always be. But I'd rather be fighting with him every day for the rest of my life then apart from him for one more."

Maiya looked vaguely angered, and definitely suspicious, but she finally nodded.

"Alright. I guess it's just sinking in. I got used to having you around again, and then you just disappeared," she murmured. Eerin winced slightly.

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I guess I'm one of those selfish girls when I fall in love."

"Might as well be, at least you have an excuse now," Maiya sniggered, but there was still a flicker of bitterness behind her eyes.

Eerin suspected it was because Maiya was only just realising that she would be leaving, just about for good, this time. She didn't particularly like the idea herself, but she knew she wouldn't have said yes to Darcy the night before if she hadn't considered that.

"Enough with the D and M. Come on then, I fancy a cup of tea," Maiya decided, pulling her sister up and practically dragging her into the kitchen, ending the moment and all its poignancy. As they were waiting for the water to boil and Fiona was babbling about some ideas for the wedding while she cooked breakfast, something caught Eerin's eye outside the kitchen window, where they could see a slither of the back garden.

"Oh shit," she murmured with dread, running outside to the garden quickly. When she practically crashed into Darcy's arms, she couldn't help but notice the begrudging smile on her father's face.

"Lord, Eerin, what's gotten into you?" Darcy chuckled, pulling her back to check she wasn't injured. She blushed.

"Sorry, I was worried you two might be arguing," she murmured.

"Not at all. Your boy isn't as stupid as he looks," Warrain chirped, earning an eye roll from Darcy. "So, congratulations are in order then," he smiled down at his daughter. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she caught Darcy's hand in hers.

"I guess so," she replied, trying to contain her excitement. "William, Mum's got it in her head that we need to have a fancy wedding. Can you go convince her we just need a priest and a ring?" she practically begged. Darcy chuckled, and smoothed back her dark hair.

"I like fancy weddings," he teased, releasing her and heading up the garden path and back to the house. She scowled after him, but couldn't help a small laugh. She turned back to her father, who was regarding her fondly.

"So. Getting married," he said with a deep sigh. She bit her lip, and nodded. "He just asked my permission, you know. He had a _very_ good excuse about how he 'felt the need to secure your positive reaction to his proposals before he requested my permission', but he actually asked _me_, which I think shows some balls," he commented lightly.

"Did he tell you this was his third time proposing?" she asked with a teasing smile. He chuckled.

"No, actually, but I'm not surprised. He's awfully fond of you, you know," he added, a twinkle in his dark eyes. Eerin couldn't help but feel an excited flutter in her stomach at that statement coming from her father. He stared at her with a smile that slowly faded into a pained grimace, and when he spoke again, it was with some strain and obvious emotion. "I can't believe that he deserves you, you know. And I almost told him to bugger off, because I – I don't want to give you up, Rinny-Ninny," he managed to get out, his face reddening and his eyes watering.

Eerin quickly wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and buried her head in his shirt, just like she did when she was little.

"I know it's a damned cliché, but it seems like yesterday when you were wearing nappies and needed me to tell you a story so the monsters wouldn't get you," he sighed against her hair, stroking it back gently as he shook slightly with tears. Behind her, Eerin could see Darcy look out the kitchen window to the scene in the garden. "And now... bloody hell, Eerin, you're still my little girl. My pride and joy, Rinny," he continued quietly.

"I know, Dad. I know," she whispered, surprised to feel tears sliding down her own cheeks.

Up until that moment, her father had always been the most important man, and possibly the most important person in her life for so many years. She had always sought his love and his pride, and that hadn't stopped, even when she went off to live with Darcy for months on end. But somewhere along the lines, the opinions of a different man mattered all the more to her. But she still couldn't comprehend leaving him.

"And now he's going to take you away from me," Warrain murmured with a small sob. She had never seen so much emotion from him before in her life – she hadn't even thought he was capable of that.

"No, he won't. We don't have to go to England, we can stay here," she insisted amidst tears. He chuckled, and pulled back slightly. She suddenly felt the little girl once again.

"No, love. No," he said hoarsely, regarding her with soft eyes. "No, your place is there, with him. You can see it when you're together. We love you to death, but he'd love you even further," he sighed, stroking her hair back fondly. "But... bloody hell, I'll miss you," he gasped, with another strangled sob. She wiped his tears back with a soft smile.

"I'll miss you too," she assured him. He chuckled.

"Well, I'll just have to visit a lot, and I'll always be unexpected," he replied with a laughing sort of smile. She nodded.

"Sounds good, dad," she beamed behind tears. He gave a lengthy sigh, and patted her shoulder.

"Alright. Go to him, then. It's his turn now, I've had you for twenty years," he said finally. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and then headed back to the house as he made his way down to the shed.

If she were more nostalgic, she might think it were some sort of metaphor for their lives; that she was walking away whilst he returned to his isolated little slice of the world. She had often feared that she would be such a woman, one day, content to wallow in her loneliness.

But William had changed a lot of things in her life, and that was one of them.

"There you are, Eerin. Now Darcy says he _loves_ St Marys Chapel, how about _that,_ missy?" Fiona challenged when she made her way into the kitchen, Darcy searching her face with an understanding smile.

Eerin scoffed, and took her place by his side, sliding her arm around his waist.

"Well then, I suppose he's got a lot to learn about dealing with me," she laughed, resting her head against his chest and feeling the comforting vibrations of his lungs as he chuckled.

Fiona only rolled her eyes, and babbled on about her plans for the venue.

But neither Eerin nor Darcy were listening. He glanced down and caught her eyes with a soft, reassuring smile. She sighed quietly, and leant further into his body, content to simply indulge in the warm familiarity of his form for a few moments more.

**A/N: Alright. Just saying, I've had the shittest past few days you could imagine. I don't want to go into any detail, so please, for my sake, don't ask me about it. I don't want to talk about it right now. I'm probably being stupid to even say I'm having a hard time without explaining it, but the fact that I can just say I've had a bad weekend makes me feel like it's almost over, and I can look to a time when things won't be... insanely, family-destroyingly awful. Also, I think you all deserve an excuse for why I'm not updating regularly like I used to. Luckily there is only one more chapter left of this story, the epilogue. **

**Sorry I'm rambling. I'm in a crap mood (have been listening to Adele's new album on repeat, so that doesn't help the sanity) and I'm tired. Ignore this message. One chapter left. You're all awesome.**

**-Evie**


	46. Of Epilogues and Endings

"_Must I memorise a book to be considered wise,_

_When I can look into your eyes?_

_There are poems and romances,_

_In the glamour of your glances,_

_You're an education in yourself,"_

-Michael Feinstein, 'You're An Education'

When Eerin was four years old, she and her sisters were put to bed with their hair twisted around strips of cotton that had been left over from their Christmas party dresses. She remembered giggling with Maiya and Jannali as they all crawled into the same big bed and told each other scary stories, as was the norm for most nights.

They were woken early, and along with baby Kylie, they were forced into the delicate little petticoat dresses they wore only on very special occasions, before their mother dressed them each in matching ivory frocks which made a lovely swishing sound when they walked. Then, as they ate their breakfast in their painting aprons to protect the dresses, Fiona unwrapped the strips of cotton from their hair so it fell in beautiful ringlets, which they were under no circumstances allowed to touch.

They all climbed into the silver Nissan van that they used for the school drop offs, and they left the Shire to spend two hours driving up to the central coast. Eerin could remember many things about that day, such as the way their mother tied up their hair in those ribbons and the way they munched on their wheat bix and nutella toast in their paint covered smocks, but nothing stuck out in her memory as much as the sight of her second cousin April bursting into tears to see her reflection in the hotel mirror before she walked down the isle to her future husband.

She was quite certain that Fiona had explained how they were going to a wedding to watch April and her boyfriend Reese get married, but Eerin didn't think much of it at the time. There were other things on her mind at the tender age of four.

"One day Eerin," Fiona had said as she fretted over April along with several other women, "You'll be getting married, so you had better pay attention today, and be a good little girl," she instructed sternly.

Married? No, that would never happen, Eerin decided, looking over to see Jannali staring at April in her poofy white dress with wonder. Maiya stuck out her tongue, causing Eerin to laugh. She didn't understand why her cousin April was such a mess, but she did understand that she got to carry a basket of rose petals and throw them on the ground with Jannali and Maiya. That was a wedding to her.

But there were some things that had become a blurred memory to Eerin over the years. Perhaps April's wedding hadn't been in an open field with the vows said beneath a large, overarching tree. Perhaps she hadn't danced around through the grass and the flowers in her petticoats with her sisters, ribbons from the chairs trailing behind them and fluttering in the wind. Perhaps the sky hadn't been the bluest of blues known to man, and perhaps they hadn't thrown their cake in the bushes before they took off their shoes and played in the little stream with their new cousin-in-law's little sisters.

But even if that was all just a vague memory turned hazy over the years, that was the only way Eerin would want her wedding to be. She didn't want to wear shoes or an ugly, poofy dress – she wanted the sky to be the bluest of blues and she wanted to say her vows beneath a tree and she wanted there to be flowers in the earth, not in a basket thrown about by a young girl forced into an uncomfortable frock.

"Cousin April's wedding, Mum. Do we have any pictures from it?" Eerin asked rather suddenly over dinner a few nights after Darcy's proposal.

Just like her moving in with him had been something unspoken and almost accidental, Darcy staying with the Beaumonts in the Shire was just as unplanned. Within the first twenty-four hours he helped Warrain catch a black snake hiding beneath the wood pile in the back yard and was taught the only proper way to barbeque sausages. Not to mention the amusing incident with the vegemite. He made it a point to inform Eerin that since coming to Merryton Downs he had experienced more of Australia than he had in his past ten months in Sydney.

"You still remember that?" Fiona exclaimed with surprise. "You were only four years old, I think. It wasn't very nice, she had the ceremony outside. It wasn't much better than a bloody field, really," she said, before frowning. "You're not thinking of having a wedding like _that_, are you?" she asked warily. Eerin shrugged.

"Well... yes. Sort of. But better," she replied, thoughtfully pushing some spaghetti around her plate.

"So you're determined to forgo the church?" Darcy questioned, turning to his fiancée. She nodded.

"I don't want to be married inside. I want light. Air. Grass," she insisted firmly. He smiled.

"I thought a big fancy church wedding was every little girl's dream?" he challenged wryly. She shook her head, and Fiona scoffed.

"_Lord_ no. All my other girls, even _Maiya_, they all started thinking about their weddings when they were in preschool. But not Eerin," she grumbled, as if in accusation. Maiya scowled.

"Hey. Don't put me in a collective grouping with them," she snapped, glaring to her younger sisters, who were texting between mouthfuls.

"Graham said he wanted to marry me," Leena announced suddenly, before she started to giggle with Kylie. Darcy scowled to his plate.

"Unfortunately, Leena, you're not the only young woman he has said that to," he replied coolly. With anyone else, Leena would have given an angry huff and spit out some sort of insult, which was usually 'whatever, your mum works at maccas', but she had quite the soft spot for Darcy, so instead blushed and turned her eyes back down to her phone. Eerin placed a hand on his arm, but he smiled to assure that he was fine. He liked Leena, really, but he found her sometimes too much to handle.

"We can have the reception inside, I swear. But I want to find somewhere with a garden," she then said firmly, when she was sure he was alright, speaking over the threatening squabble of her siblings.

"Well, you could have it at Mt Tomah. You always liked it there when you were little," Warrain suggested with a slight shrug. He'd had nothing to do with wedding plans over the past few days. He insisted that he wasn't the 'wedding' type, something Fiona could confirm.

"Is that the one with the koi pond up in the Blue Mountains?" Eerin frowned thoughtfully, trying to attach the name to the place. "Do they even do weddings?"

"Of course they do. Remember when we went there for a picnic and there was that big wedding with the ugly bridesmaid dresses?" Fiona reminded her, suddenly looking excited. "Oh, and they have that lovely restaurant, and that big beautiful arbour! Your photos would be beautiful!" she practically squealed with excitement.

"Want to go to the mountains tomorrow and have a look?" Eerin asked her fiancé with a laugh.

"Whatever you want, love," he smiled. Leena and Kylie sighed dreamily. They had been doing a lot of that lately.

So, it was pretty much decided over dinner. Eerin was quite certain about it the more she recalled annual picnics there with her family. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. It was absolutely perfect.

And so, on a sunny day in December when the sky was the bluest of blues, Eerin and Darcy married beneath a weeping willow with the leaves gently swaying in the breeze. She wore no shoes and a simple, but pretty white dress made of a soft and light ivory silk that her mother complained looked more like a petticoat than anything. There weren't a lot of guests; just close family and friends, and a few people Darcy had known in England who felt it necessary to fly in for the wedding.

They danced to 'The Promise' (by this point Eerin had put on her shoes to save injury) and Meat Loaf. They spared the speeches and the stiff formalness of most weddings and had a five-hour meal with wine and Polish vodka.

"I should have married you earlier. This is much easier than I expected," Darcy smiled into Eerin's short hair as she leant into his chest. She had plonked herself down on his lap to watch her sisters dancing together like they had when they were little, a fond smile passing over her lips.

"The wedding bit is easy. We'll see how the marriage part goes," she laughed, turning her head to press a kiss to his chin. "I love you," she said softly, never tiring of the words. He chuckled.

"Mm. You're alright," he shrugged teasingly. She didn't scoff, only laughed, and shook her head slightly, casting her eyes over the room.

"Ana seems to be having fun," she commented with a little giggle, watching her new sister dancing with Hamish. She was blushing and smiling as they slowly moved around the dance floor to the sound of Bon Iver.

"Mm. I might need to have a very stern word and an intentions speech to Hamish," Darcy grumbled bitterly, but he knew there wasn't much use. Since Ana had met Hamish a few weeks ago after arriving back in Australia to help prepare for the wedding, she had been completely enamoured, and although Hamish was by no means ready to enter another relationship with the death of his wife not even a year old, he was certainly smiling a lot more than he had been of late.

"Let them be. She's still young and Hamish isn't ready yet. I don't think you need to be worried," she laughed. He huffed, but she could tell he knew she was right.

"Well, from the looks of it, I might actually have to have that 'intentions' conversation with Richard, then, judging by the way he's looking at Maddy," he commented with a little chuckle.

"I reckon they're perfect for each other. Well, they make a much better couple than Carmen did with Richard," she replied, smiling as she watched Richard dancing with Maddy, Tom sitting on his shoulders with his hands fisted in Richard's floppy hair.

"I'm sorry she didn't come, by the way. I know it must be hard without her," he said, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. Eerin shrugged.

"Hey, it was me or Collins. She chose Gropey-McGee. No big deal," she replied, but he could tell it had hurt her.

He didn't understand Carmen at all; turning down an invitation to her friend's wedding with a weak excuse about how her boyfriend had something more important to do. But he knew friendships had an infinite capacity to change.

"So those blokes by the bar. You haven't introduced them to me yet. They're your colleagues, right?" she questioned, peering across the hall to the three men in suits who had flown in from England for the wedding. For a week or so Darcy had returned to Sydney as she spent the last few days of her single life with her family, and he with his old colleagues.

"Ah, yes. I should probably introduce you to them," he laughed, sliding her off his lap. They wove through the crowd and dodged blessings and congratulations from friends and family before they got to the bar, the suits stopping their conversation to share their well wishes with Darcy.

"Sorry I didn't get to meet you earlier, it's been a bit crazy around here," Eerin apologised with a smile, leaning forwards and shaking the hands of each man in turn.

"Eerin, this is Nicholas Culver, I worked with him in the history faculty at Oxford," Darcy began, as Eerin shook the first man's hand. He was an older man, with greying hair and a very tanned face, which made his pale amber eyes seem quite striking, especially in combination with his kind very kind smile.

"It's a pleasure, Mrs Darcy. Your husband quite surprised me when I found out he was getting married, I only hope you can put up with him," he laughed. She smiled.

"I like to think I can," she replied, glancing to her husband with a teasing twinkle in her dark eyes.

"And this is Martin Sheperd, he runs an ancient history course that sometimes required my specific skills," Darcy continued, giving his wife only a smirk by way of response to her teasing. Martin was the oldest of the three, with hair so white and soft it was like feathers on his head. He had hazel eyes that sparkled with wisdom behind his round spectacles, and a broad smile almost hidden by his rather impressive moustache.

"It was a beautiful ceremony. You've found yourself quite the catch, Darcy old chap," he chuckled, pressing Eerin's hand tightly in his before giving it back.

"I agree, Martin. No complains here," Darcy smiled, before turning to the last man. "And this, Eerin, is Alistair Randolph. I've told you about him before; he was pretty much my mentor at Oxford, before he left to teach archaeology at Cambridge. He's the reason why I'll have a job when we go back to England," he smiled, as she reached out to shake the man's hand.

He didn't seem as pleased to be there as the others. His hand was weathered and coarse against hers, and there was only the shadow of a forced smile on his lips as he murmured brief congratulations. He could be called handsome, with short brown hair and pale, milky blue eyes. He would have only been about ten years older than Darcy, but she knew that one of the reasons her husband admired the man so much was because of his incredible dedication and discipline, which had advanced him far in his career in a short amount of time. And she also knew that Alistair hadn't approved of the marriage. He hadn't approved of Darcy's decision to leave Sydney, after he himself had pulled so many strings to get him the position. But like any good mentor, Alistair had forgiven his student and had made some arrangements for Darcy to begin his course at Cambridge in 2011.

"Will has told me a lot about you. Almost enough to make me pretty jealous," she laughed, leaning against her husband's chest.

"I'm sorry, but who did I just marry?" Darcy laughed, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder and gently rubbing his thumb across her pale skin. Eerin rolled her eyes.

"He's getting forgetful in his old age," she said apologetically to the three men. Martin and Nicholas chuckled, and a flicker of a smile played on Alistair's lips. "So, Will said you've got a dig planned that you were hoping he could join you for," she said, glancing between them.

"Yes, but that all depends. He might not be so interested in spending two years in the desert now that he'll have a wife waiting at home for him," Nicholas explained, shrugging slightly.

"Which is a shame, because his skills are really quite unique, and we're going to need his expertise, whether he comes with us or not," Martin interjected.

"Well, I'm actually training to be a symbolist as well, or at least to get a better understanding in the field, so I'm certainly not against the idea," she smiled. Alistair raised a brow in slight surprise.

"You would live in the desert for two years, working on a dig with your husband?" he challenged. She nodded. "It won't be pleasant. You'll probably be living in a tent for months on end, it's not for the faint of heart," he warned, his voice laced with suspicion. She laughed.

"Well, I suppose I'm brave, then. It sounds fascinating to me. And I really want to get involved with Will's work, I've been a fan of it for ages," she explained brightly, as he wrapped an arm around her waist from behind.

"And if she's happy with the idea, then I'm happy. So you can count us in for the expedition," Darcy assured them. Nicholas and Martin were ecstatic, and Alistair stared at her with curiosity.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Eerin was whisked away by Richard and Tom to dance, and Darcy remained to speak with his colleagues. Everyone there was so happy. She really couldn't imagine a more perfect wedding. Even her mother was commenting on how well things turned out, which was quite a feat for her.

It wasn't until it came time to cut the cake that Darcy finally excused himself from his colleagues, and joined his wife in a small food fight before the party started to die down.

"I'm not sure if Alistair likes me," Eerin murmured to her husband, as she glanced across the room to spot the man himself glancing to her with a slight frown on his face. Darcy chuckled as he finished the last of his cake and then took a sip of wine.

"The first thing he said to me when we were alone was that he was going to make you divorce me, Eerin," he informed her. She felt her heart sink.

"Is it because I was your student? I thought you said he understood when you explained things!" she frowned, stabbing her chocolate cake with the fork.

"No, darling, I mean he wants you to divorce me because he thinks I don't deserve you," he chuckled, lowering his voice so he could barely be heard above the chatter of the party. Her brows rose in surprise.

"Really? He – are you serious?" she exclaimed, glancing back to see him looking at her again. Darcy smiled, and nodded.

"Well, one of the reasons why I admire him as a mentor is because he has such excellent taste," he laughed. She blushed, and bit her lip, shaking her head slightly and fighting a smirk.

"Does this mean you get to be jealous again? Because you're really sexy when you're jealous," she murmured, leaning forwards and pressing her lips against his jaw. He gave a low, deep chuckle that reverberated through his chest.

"I think it's about time we told everyone to go home," he replied, running his hand along the length of her forearm. She laughed into his collar. "So, you want to go on the dig?" he asked suddenly. She leant back to meet his eyes, and nodded.

"Definitely. When are they planning it?"

"Not for another eighteen months. You'll be finished university then," he answered, tapping his lips thoughtfully. "Alright. So by the time we finish the dig, we'll have been married for three and a half years, and I'll be thirty-eight. We have our first baby after about four years of marriage, and then the second a year after that, which means I'll be forty," he began, counting years off in his head.

"I don't think it's something you can plan that easily," she laughed.

"So theoretically, I'll be about forty-three by the time we have our fifth child."

"First of all, we're not having five kids, we're having _one_. Maybe two," she insisted firmly. He gave a smug grin.

"It means you get to name five children, not to mention the middle names," he reminded her. She frowned.

"That would mean I could use Stephen Fry, Ralph Fiennes, Richard Armitage, Andrew Lloyd Webber _and _Jeremy Irons..." she muttered thoughtfully.

"Do you still have a crush on Jeremy Irons? He's over forty years older than you!"

"Shut up. We love each other," she insisted firmly. Darcy laughed into her shoulder.

"What about Remus Lupin? I thought you wanted to use that one too," he reminded her.

"Mm. I don't want to doom him, though. And he might start acting weirdly at the full moon."

"Which all comes back to the 'Great Gatsby' doomed chicken ordeal," he laughed. She beamed.

"You remembered! I knew I married you for a good reason," she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and depositing herself on his lap with a small giggle.

"I like planning things. I like to know where I'll be ten years down the track," he explained, pressing his forehead against hers. She nodded in understanding.

"I know. But... some things I reckon we're going to have to take as they come. So don't set yourself up in a routine too soon," she advised. He smiled against her mouth, and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I can't believe you're my _wife_..." he murmured softly.

"And you're my bitch."

Darcy rolled his eyes and leant back.

"You just ruined a beautiful moment," he chastised, causing her smirk to grow.

"I'll make it up to you on this mystery honeymoon, then," she grinned. "Speaking of which, are you ever going to tell me where we're going?" she asked, raising a brow. He sighed dramatically.

"I suppose I have to, although you must have guessed by now."

"Do you mean..."

"Three weeks in the south of France. Only this time, no Ana. Just you, me, and twenty-one days of freezing to death in Marseilles," he smiled. She squealed with excitement. She had been hoping that they would be in France, because their week in Marseilles had been the most perfect seven days of her life, and even though it would be much colder there and certainly not beach-friendly weather, nothing could make for a better honeymoon, particularly when she thought about how much she loved cold weather, being shut up in a nice warm house with a fireplace and some hot chocolate.

"You're perfect," she sighed happily, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth. He chuckled.

"Even more perfect than Jeremy Irons?"

"Oh, hells yeah. But not quite as wonderful as Stephen Fry. You're still better than Ralph Fiennes, only because of the Qantas incident, though. And you blow Richard Armitage out of the park," she babbled. "And then again, we have to consider David Tennant. I didn't include him before because he doesn't have _the voice_. But then I saw him in a velvet dinner jacket on QI, and that man is _hilarious_, too," she added thoughtfully, tapping her lip.

"You're insane," he informed her quite simply. She laughed, and nodded, leaning forwards.

"But you love me all the same?"

"Of course I do, God help me," he smiled, pressing his lips against hers once more. They were interrupted by the rather loud, uncomfortable coughing of Warrain Beaumont as he announced that he and the rest of the family had to be leaving.

Darcy released his wife and allowed her to go make her teary goodbyes to her family. After all, they really didn't know when they would be back in Australia, or when the entire Beaumont family would be free to fly over to England to visit. Darcy watched with slight pain as Eerin pressed a soft kiss to baby Noah's brow, with Tom clutching to her leg, tears streaming down his face.

"So, mate. We should be off too," came a familiar voice from behind. Darcy turned to see Chase, his best man, watching him watch his wife with an understanding smile on his face.

"I didn't think of this part," Darcy admitted with a heavy sigh, before smiling to his friend. "I will miss you, you know. So you should move back to England. You won't be able to stay away for much longer," he said quite plainly. Chase laughed, and shrugged.

"Who knows what the future will hold, eh, Darcy?" he smiled wryly, glancing over to watch his wife and his new sister-in-law hugging tightly. "I suppose this is the bit where I should say something really touching and memorable, right?" he questioned. Darcy gave a breathy laugh.

"I'll forgive you if you can't think of anything."

"I'm glad you finally learnt how to be happy, Darce. And it's pretty obvious that she makes you happy," he said, almost gently. Darcy gave a quiet smile.

"She does. She really does. And I can't wait for the rest of our lives together," he replied, casting his eyes over the entire room. Most of the people there were Eerin's friends or family, and had come to say goodbye just as much as they had come to congratulate her on her marriage. He felt a stab of guilt. A very _large_ stab of guilt as he realised just what she was giving up.

"She understands. She chose to have it this way, Darcy," Chase said, as if he could read his very thoughts. Darcy nodded.

"I know. I just wish... I just wish there was some way I could make it up to her," he muttered weakly.

"You could be a good husband, for one."

Darcy gave a wry laugh.

"Well, let's hope I can get that one right," he replied, before turning away from the scene with a sigh. "Come to England soon, Chase. I'll need you to check up on me, make sure I'm still being a decent husband."

"You don't need me for that one, mate," he smiled, clapping his friend on the back. "Go on then, give your wife a hug. Start on that decentness already," he instructed. Darcy smiled, and nodded. "And... congratulations. Really. Congratulations," he said finally.

"Thank you. I suppose I'll see you when I see you," Darcy replied meaningfully. Chase nodded in understanding. Neither of them were one for goodbyes, but that had just been theirs. Without another word, Darcy left his best friend in search for his wife, to comfort her as she fought against tears.

"Hey. Come on, this is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, right?" Darcy smiled, placing his hands on her shoulders. She nodded, holding her hand against her mouth to fight a sob, but her whole body was practically shaking.

"I'm sorry. I just..." her words trailed off as she started to cry quite openly. Just about everyone was crying now, Jannali, Maddy, Tom, Fiona, even Maiya and the girls were sobbing their hearts out. Only Warrain still remained composed, but that was because the two had made their goodbyes a month ago. "I'm going to miss you all to death," she managed to get out, before being pulled into her mother's warm arms.

"Now you listen to me, Darcy," Fiona said sternly, but the effect was somewhat weakened by the strain her tears had over her voice. "I want you to take good care of her. If you don't look after her, I'll be on the next flight over and I'll give you such a hiding you won't know your own name," she threatened. He nodded, with a small smile.

"I'll do my best, Fiona," he assured her. She sniffled, and then nodded, before pulling him into a tight hug that quite winded him.

"I'd say the same, but I think you get the drift," Maddy added, smiling through her own tears, while she held a sobbing Tom in her arms.

"Thomas Matthew Gardiner, look at me," Darcy said gently, before the young boy was passed into his arms. "I'm going to take good care of your cousin, alright? And you can come and visit her anytime. But we'll be back to see you soon," he assured him, keeping his voice stern and calm. Tom nodded; sniffling as he clumsily wiped his eyes.

"So... it's not goodbye forever?" he asked hopefully. Darcy smiled, and shook his head.

"No, not forever."

"It'd better not be," Maddy said sternly, accepting her son back, before glancing to Richard, who was standing by her side. She couldn't help but blush as he placed his hand on her shoulder and ruffled Tom's hair.

"If it is, I'll give him that hiding you mentioned, Fiona. And I promise to send you a chopped off body part for every time he upsets your daughter," Richard assured them cheerfully.

"Are you going to England too, Richer?" Tom asked suddenly, completely horrified. He had only known Richard for two weeks, but he was already very attached to him. As was his mother.

"Not quite yet. I thought I might stay here for a little while, Tom. Unless your mum is sick of me already," he smiled. Tom looked to his mother immediately, as if she had the power of keeping Richard in Australia.

"No objections here," she smiled, with another blush.

"Excellent. Well then, Tom, looks like I'll be here for a little while, at least," he decided.

But still, that bit of good news wasn't really enough to overcome the reality that Eerin had to leave her family behind, and she had no idea when she would see them again.

The rest of the goodbyes were thankfully brief. Darcy didn't think Eerin could take much more of it, if the way she sobbed against his chest when they were finally gone was any indication.

"We can stay, love. We can stay, if that's what you want," he murmured softly, but she only shook her head as he gently smoothed back her hair. Most people had already gone home, so it was now only Hamish, Ana, Richard, Alistair, Martin and Nicholas, all of whom were staying at a nearby hotel.

"No, I... I'm just going to miss them," she whimpered, pulling away slightly and wiping her eyes. She gave a bitter laugh. "I'm so ridiculous, sobbing on my bloody wedding day," she sighed.

"No. Eerin, it's alright to be upset. But we'll visit, and they'll visit, and there's always email and video calls, it's not as if you'll never see them again," he assured her. She nodded rather shakily, and turned back to face the last of her guests. She started to cry once more when she saw Hamish, who wasn't looking too good himself.

"Stop it, Rinny. You'll make me look like a thirteen year old girl, tearing up like this," he commanded with a pained smile.

"Are you going to be alright without me?" she asked between sobs. He shrugged, and laughed.

"Maybe? I don't know. I think I might end up following you to England sooner or later. Might go to Ireland, see Naomi's parents," he mused, digging his hands into his pockets. "I mean... England is as good a place as any. Being here isn't helping. And besides, someone needs to keep an eye on you, no offence, Darcy," he smirked.

"Oh, you should come to England! You'll love it!" Ana insisted excitedly. Hamish laughed delightedly at her enthusiasm.

"Ana..." Darcy murmured sternly, but she only waved him off.

"I'm sure Eerin would love it if you would come to England," Ana said firmly, glancing to her new sister. Eerin smiled, and nodded.

"I would, Hames."

Hamish shrugged, closing the topic of discussion. Darcy still couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy as he watched Hamish, which was ridiculous, but unavoidable.

"Why are we getting teary now? You're not leaving until tomorrow," Richard reminded them all, swinging Eerin into a tight side-hug.

"Save the tears for your marriage, Mrs Darcy. Knowing Fitz, you'll have quite a lot to shed," Alistair drawled with a tiny smile flickering on his lips. Eerin laughed, and nodded, wiping her eyes.

"You're going to give her the wrong idea about me, Alistair," Darcy said sternly, but his mentor only smirked.

"That's the plan."

Darcy didn't object, only smiled into Eerin's hair as he pulled her back to his chest.

"We should probably head back to the hotel. It's getting kind of late," Hamish announced, glancing to his watch.

"Alright, you all go along. We'll follow," Darcy instructed, running his hand up and down Eerin's back to soothe her. When they were alone in the large hall, she finally spoke.

"I wish we didn't have to do the whole 'goodbye' thing. I think I would have been okay if we just left a note or something," she laughed bitterly, wrapping her arms against his waist.

"But you would regret not saying goodbye, Eerin," he reminded her. She shrugged.

"I wouldn't have been able to do this a year ago. I think... being with you has made me a bit more grown-up. I mean, I know I wouldn't have had to leave if I hadn't met you, but... all the same..." she trailed off with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry that you have to give this all up to be with my wife, Eerin," he murmured. She shook her head.

"No. Don't be sorry. Just pay me back by letting me name one of our children Stephen Fry," she insisted. He chuckled, and pressed his lips against her forehead. "I won't pretend it's easy for me. But I love you more than I want to stay here. And I'm your wife now, so where you go, I go," she added.

"And it works the other way round, Eerin, if you want to come back. I'll come back with you," he assured her.

"I love you."

Darcy smiled, and softly stroked back her short dark hair.

Perhaps that was how it worked. Because she knew that he would always follow her, she felt secure enough to leave. The knowledge that they would support each other no matter what was as much as a safety net as it was what kept them together. And he had changed, too. It was ridiculous to think that any man could be created simply so he complimented a woman to complete perfection.

Plato's Parables aside, men and women were not made of one sphere and split apart from birth. They were perfect for each other because they had smoothed down edges and clicked patterns and routines together, not because they were made that way. And there were still things that they would argue over throughout the rest of their days. 'Happily ever after' was not always 'completely without flaws'.

And standing there, on his wedding day, holding his new wife gently in his arms, he knew that without a doubt their life would be filled with arguments and dramas and challenges. That was just who they were. But they had learnt from each other how to get past those things with as little damage as possible. It didn't matter how many children they would have or whether or not they would live in England for the rest of their days. Darcy knew that there would be problems.

He was not psychic, so he could not know that they would have three children, each born in a different country with a different temperament. He could not know that on two occasions, he would be within a hair's breadth of becoming a widower; once to a collapsed cave opening in Uweinat near the Egyptian border, and then again to a complication during the birth of their third child, a daughter who was born five weeks early in a Sydney hospital during a thunder storm. He didn't know that the collapse while he documented the petroglyphs in Jebel Uweinat could have cost him his own life, had he been standing two feet to his right at the time of the cave-in. He didn't know that another man would fall possessively in love with his wife, and it would lead to both the split of a mentor from his student and the saving of his wife and son's life. He didn't know that his sister would eventually end up with Hamish, but not for another thirteen years. He didn't know that Richard would marry again, but this time, he would not divorce his wife within a year, and in fact, they would not divorce at all. Or that he would only see Warrain three more times before the man collapsed in his shed and didn't come up to the house for dinner that night, leaving Eerin completely shattered.

He didn't know any of this. He didn't _want_ to know any of this yet.

But there was one thing that he knew, and that he would know for the rest of his life.

"I love you too, Mrs Darcy," he smiled, leaning down and pressing his lips against his wife's.

And really, what else did he need to know?

**A/N: Well, well, well. And to a weak and cliché ending we come. **

**So, a few things to mention before I upload this chapter and 'An Education' is officially finished. **

**First of all: Sorry I used my author's note to vent a little last chapter. Things haven't been easy recently, but I think it's getting better. I'm not getting my hopes up – but I think things are really looking up, we're starting to be a family again. I won't explain in too much detail, but let me just say that I know how Elizabeth Bennet must have felt in regards to Lydia and all the pain that caused. I never focus on it in my fics, because it never struck me as being too important. But that's changed now. **_**I've**_** changed now. So thank you for your kind support (particularly 'Auntie Bon', thank you for your concern, your reviews and messages always bring a smile to my face) and your patience. It's much appreciated. **

**Secondly: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story, I don't even want to think about a life where I couldn't write and have your opinions so readily available to me. I particularly appreciate the reviewers who took the time to give me detailed and insightful critique, because that's what makes me a better writer, and that's what I write fanfiction for. **

**Thirdly: This will not be my last fanfic. This will not be my last P&P fanfic. This will be my last P&P fanfic of this nature; it's rather long (about 280, 000 words, I think, including A/Ns), and at this stage I'm really just repeating myself. I am working on a fic now, **_**Red Gloves and Porcelain Dolls**_**, which I see as having potential, but it's not at all like this fic, it's written very... differently. A bit more grownup, and that's what I'm trying to be right now. I still have so much to learn about writing before I try to get my stuff published out there in the real world. Right now, I think all I will be doing is going through and editing all my old fics, fixing errors and perhaps smoothing down edges. I'm still posting **_**L'Ange Noir**_**, but I really want to focus on writing my first proper novel, which is taking up a MASSIVE amount of my time (I have SO much research to do), but will be done eventually. So don't expect a lot from me, but I'm not disappearing. Although, if you think about it, I've written a LOT of this stuff. Maybe it's time I slowed down?**

**Hmm. I doubt it.**

**Alright, that's all I can really think of right now. I'd love to hear from you, considering this is the last chapter, so it's a good opportunity for all you lurkers to come out and say hello, I know you've been reading. Let's see if we can break the 1,000 review mark, hey? **

**I'm such a review whore. **

**Anyways. Thank you all so much. Really. It's been awesome, and it's a shame this has come to an end, I liked this story. In my mind, this isn't the end of it. In my mind, Eerin and Darcy go to Egypt and have all sorts of adventures with Alistair. But that's not the story I set out to write, and although I might post a one-shot of their later life somewhere down the track, I shan't be posting it tonight. Have to get my beauty sleep ;)**

**-Evie**


End file.
